A Mirror Cracked
by Honeybee1111
Summary: What happened after Empress Sato took over the Terran Empire? What was the fate of T'Pol and Phlox? What was the fate of those who were loyal to Archer? An original take on what happened in the MU.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or its characters. No profit made._**

**_Rating: PG-13 in this Chapter, R in subsequent Chapters._**

**_A/N: Mirror Universe. This jumps off from the TV episodes but ignores TATV and the books. It's my own take on what might have happened in the MU. This version, even though it is M rated, is the "clean" version. I highly recommend the unexpurgated NC-17 version which can be found in the decon chamber over at www triaxiansilk com. If you are of age, check it out. _**

**Chapter One**

T'Pol paced the small confines of _The Defiant_'s brig, uncertain as to why she still lived. The newly christened Empress Sato had been barking orders through the ship's communication system all morning. T'Pol thought for certain that one of the Empress's first orders would be to see that she and Phlox were executed for their attempt to help the rebellion. Yet, it had been two days since Sato had murdered Archer and taken command of _The Defiant_ and the Empire.

T'Pol sat down and closed her eyes. She imagined a flame in her mind and began to meditate. She lost track of the time that past - possibly hours - until she heard a commotion outside the brig. The force field that kept her confined allowed her to see across the hallway, where Phlox was being forced into the opposite cell. Since _The Avenger_ was destroyed, she and Phlox were the only aliens left on the ship. He had apparently recovered enough from his injuries to be imprisoned.

T'Pol locked eyes with Phlox and nodded, hoping her eyes conveyed her regret. Phlox nodded in return.

T'Pol remained seated and went back into her meditative state. Some time later, she was interrupted by another commotion. Two guards carried the unconscious form of Major Reed and tossed him into another brig. The Major appeared to be alive, but his face remained badly scarred and he did not awaken when he hit the brig's hard bunk.

"I can check on him if you like," said Phlox amiably.

The guards just sneered and left. Clearly, they did not believe it necessary to guard them given the strength of _The Defiant_'s force fields.

"Why do you suppose they've brought Major Reed here?" asked Phlox.

"During the mutiny, Reed proved loyal to Archer. Sato rightfully doesn't trust him. I imagine she will lock up any officer that was loyal to Archer. She won't make the same mistake that Archer made in trusting her."

Phlox nodded.

"Why do you suppose we are still alive?"

T'Pol sighed.

"Of that, I am uncertain."

Phlox sat back on his bunk.

"I'm sorry about Soval. He was a good man," said Phlox, "I never had an occasion to quarrel with him, until the last few days of course."

T'Pol nodded. She was sorry as well, in her Vulcan way, but she took comfort in the fact that Soval had died with honor - in attempt to make life better for their people.

The hallway door flew open again, and in strode Chief Engineer Tucker flanked by two guards. He was shuffled into the last remaining brig.

"You tell the new Empress to go to hell for me," shouted Tucker as the two guards exited.

No doubt Tucker's loyalty to Archer also made him suspect.

"What are you staring at, bitch?" drawled Tucker from his cell.

T'Pol turned away and closed her eyes. She wondered if Tucker had read about his counterpart in the MU - the one who had married to her counterpart despite prejudice against inter-species marriages from both Vulcans and Terrans. They had been considered pioneers who paved the way for interspecies families as well as couples serving together in Starfleet. She closed her eyes and imagined the lives they had shared in that other world. The children they had raised together. It defied logic and reason, and yet she had found herself picturing what it must have been like for them in that other world.

_No_, she thought, _He did not read about their counterparts in the other universe. He wouldn't have spoken to her that way if he had._

The door flew open again, and the guards ferried in Crewman Elizabeth Cutler, Phlox's human assistant. No empty cells were left, so they shoved her into the cell with Phlox.

"Since you like Denobulans so much, the Empress thought you'd wouldn't mind sharing the brig with one," said one of the guards, laughing at the tears in the human woman's eyes.

T'Pol glanced over at Cutler, who was shaking.

"I'm sorry about this, my dear," said Phlox, "I didn't involve you . . and I'd hoped. . .well, I'm sorry, in any case."

Cutler smiled through her tears, and she sat down next to the doctor.

T'Pol shook her head. She had never heard Cutler utter one derogatory word to her or any of the other aliens in Starfleet. On the contrary, she had occasionally inquired about life on Vulcan and its history and traditions. That part of her nature alone probably made her suspect.

As far as T'Pol was concerned, Cutler represented the best of humanity. It was because of humans like her, that T'Pol didn't find the idea of a Federation of planets to be entirely absurd.

T'Pol closed her eyes again, hoping to access her white space. She had been ready for death, but she was finding it frustrating that it had not yet come.

****

The next day, the guards fetched T'Pol from her cell and brought her to the Empress's Ready Room. Sato sat at her desk, and the guards forced T'Pol to her knees.

"Nobody stands before the Empress," said one of the guards.

T'Pol bowed her head and lowered her eyes. To her surprise, Sato told the guards to leave them alone.

"I'll bet you're wondering why you're still alive," sneered Sato, after the door had closed behind her guards.

T'Pol said nothing.

"You stayed loyal to Captain Forrest. You helped him overcome Archer's mutiny. It's not your fault what happened to him. But I'm glad you saw Archer for what he was. . ."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. During their last encounter, Sato had seemed quite loyal to Archer. Yet, there was remorse in her voice when she spoke of the late Captain Forrest.

_Perhaps_, thought T'Pol, _Sato_ _had possessed genuine affection for Forrest._

"I'm not saying I trust you. I'm just saying that I don't blame you for rebelling against the idea of an Emperor Archer. I was equally disgusted at the notion, but _I_ actually found a way to thwart him. Not to mention the fact that those who followed me are still alive."

T'Po had to suppress the pain she felt at the loss of Soval and the others, but she was determined that no emotion show on her face. She spoke carefully.

"Archer's hatred of Vulcans was well known. Emperor Archer would have turned his ire and the full force of this vessel against my people. I could not allow that to happen."

Sato sighed and poured herself a drink from a carafe on her desk.

"This is Andorian Ale. It's delicious. I'm thinking of sparing Andoria the blitz it deserves. . .if they can provide me with an unlimited supply of this. As for Vulcan. . .I've always been pretty indifferent to Vulcans. Except for you. I don't like you. But that's personal."

"And yet I still live."

Sato got up and slapped T'Pol across the face. T'Pol barely flinched.

"You will address me by my proper title, either Empress or Caesar."

"I'm sorry, Empress. I was merely expressing my curiosity about your sparing my life."

"You're alive because Max would have wanted you that way. . .he respected you. He appreciated what you did for him. . . so you and Phlox will live for the time being."

T'Pol felt a glimmer of hope creep into her mind. Then, without thinking, she asked a question that was a surprise even to her.

"What about the humans that were loyal to Archer. . . .Reed? . . Tucker?"

Hoshi grinned.

"Ah, Tucker. You're little plaything. . .figures you'd be interested in his fate."

T'Pol found herself remembering Sato's remark about Tucker during their fight. She suppressed an intense jealously at the thought of Sato engaging in sexual relations with Tucker. It was yet another surprise in a day full of them.

"Now that Archer's out of the picture," said Sato, "I'm sure Reed and Tucker will come around to my side. They've both got skills that will be of use to me. And after a few months or years rotting in the brig, they'll be loyal enough to the Empress that eventually had mercy."

T'Pol remained silent.

"Aren't you going to ask what I plan to do with you?"

T'Pol closed her eyes. Sato stood up and knelt down next to T'Pol. She brushed the hair away from the Vulcan's ear and spoke.

"Well," whispered Sato, "I haven't decided. But I'm sure I'll come up with some use for you. Power is funny that way. I have this sudden impulse to collect things that owe me their lives."

Sato called to the guards.

"Get her out of my sight," she said.

****

T'Pol walked gracefully down the hallway of the brig as though she was not a prisoner. As she passed Tucker's cell, she felt his eyes boring into her. She braced herself for a cutting remark but none came.

She returned to her cell and sat down.

Phlox rushed to the edge of his force field, but he had learned quickly not to touch it. Cutler was curled up on the bunk, asleep.

"You saw the Empress? What did she say?"

"She appreciates our loyalty to Forrest and will spare our lives," said T'Pol simply.

At the relief in Phlox's face, T'Pol experienced a tinge of gratification. She was glad he would be spared death. As for her own life, she was unsure if death wouldn't have been more agreeable. The uncertainty of her situation disquieted her.

"So, this must make you happy, Vulcan," said Tucker, "Seeing those of us who were loyal to Archer locked up. . ."

"I'm incapable of feeling happy, Tucker," said T'Pol simply, "If you knew anything about Vulcans, you'd know that."

T'Pol sat down and waited. But she didn't know for what.

****

Weeks turned into months, and Empress Sato had not left _The Defiant_, where T'Pol assumed she felt the most safe. News was scarce, but occasionally a guard let some bit of information slip.

Reed had recovered consciousness, but it didn't change the tone of the prison much. He hadn't uttered more than three sentences since he regained his capacity for speech. He just stewed in his cell and allowed rage to consume him. His emotions were so transparent, that T'Pol had to work to keep them from affecting her.

Phlox remained amiable, happy to be alive and worked to keep his own and Cutler's spirits up.

Tucker, unsurprisingly, was morose. He somehow blamed T'Pol for his situation and he told her so often, peppering her with cutting remarks. T'Pol found his anger misplaced. He had every right to be angry at her manipulation of him during the mutiny, but she had nothing to do with his loyalty to Archer. That was the circumstance that had created his current predicament. To borrow a Terran phrase, he had bet on the wrong horse.

The guards had brought them their meals, replicated from _The Defiant_'s remarkable food dispensers. The devices had been programed to provide not only Terran food but Vulcan and Denobulan cuisine.

"Hey Watkins," shouted Tucker as the guard walked to the door, "Can you do me a favor? Throw me in T'Pol's cell for awhile. I'm bored in here and I'm sure she can find a way to entertain me."

Tucker glanced over at T'Pol, and she knew his words were directed as much at her as they were for guard.

"If she pisses me off enough," said Ensign Watkins, "I might just do that. Although, I'm not sure the Empress will look kindly on a human with a perverse interest in Vulcans of all things."

Tucker was now glowering at T'Pol.

"I never claimed I wasn't a pervert. The Empress knows I've got a thing for aliens. I've never hidden that."

T'Pol looked away. She did her best to suppress memories of the days she had spent with Tucker during her Pon Farr. His fetish for non-human women had been rumored, so she had chosen him to satisfy her blood fever. And he had well-satisfied it. But now that she knew the history of their other selves, she wondered if there had been more to it than that.

In the safety of her white space, T'Pol pondered whether or not she had been drawn to Tucker for other reasons. Aside from Cutler, he had always treated her and the other Vulcans with respect and had seemed to sincerely appreciate their skills. He treated all his staff with respect as well, rewarding those who who worked hard and had ability - rather than those who were obsequious or blindly loyal. She pictured him as the man she had read about in the history of the other world. . .and she felt a strange loss at what Tucker could have been. What she could have been.

T'Pol crossed her legs in front her and closed her eyes, blocking out all the distraction. She needed to purge herself of thoughts that had no purpose. Suddenly, she felt a strange sensation. She looked down at her hands and realized that she was dematerializing.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**_

_**Rating: PG-13 for references to torture and general violence.**_

**Chapter 2**

T'Pol opened her eyes, and she saw the dark green wall of a bulkhead that was most certainly not _The Defiant_'s bulkhead. It took her a moment, but she recalled that she had been transported.

She looked around, and she appeared to be in a cargo bay of some kind. It was not of Vulcan or Andorian or Terran design, that much she knew. She turned around. Phlox materialized. Then Cutler. Then Reed. And then Tucker. Everyone who had been in in _The Defiant's_ brig had been transported to this strange ship.

T'Pol approached the door, and she attempted to open it. The controls didn't respond.

"What's happened?" asked Phlox.

"Someone has transported us from _The Defiant_," stated T'Pol.

"Well, that's obvious. Why would they do that?" asked Reed, who was on the floor since he had been seated during his transport.

"The question is. . .how would they do that? There's no way that a transporter could operate through _The Defiant_'s shields," said Tucker.

T'Pol nodded.

"The shields must have been inactive when the transport occurred," said T'Pol, looking around for some clue as to what kind of ship had abducted him.

There was a subtle change in the vibration of the floor.

"Feel that. . ." drawled Tucker.

"What?" asked Reed.

"Warp Drive has been engaged," said T'Pol, locking eyes with Tucker.

"Feels like it could be close to Warp Six," said Tucker.

Cutler huddled close to Phlox, and she appeared scared.

"Well," said Phlox, "We're no longer in the brig. That's something."

"But we're still prisoners. . ." said Reed, who had begun examining the bare surroundings.

"It is likely that we've been taken by Vulcans," said T'Pol.

Reed approached her.

"And how would you know that?" he said.

"The gravity on this ship is set for Vulcan not Terran comfort. But this isn't a Vulcan design. . .the color of the bulkhead is unfamiliar to me. . ."

Tucker approached her.

"So. . .you're saying that the Vulcans have taken us. . .but you don't know anything about it?"

T'Pol glared at Tucker.

"How would I know? In case you didn't notice, I haven't been allowed messages of any kind since my imprisonment. Unlike you. Perhaps you know something of this."

Tucker and Reed had both be allowed to write letters and had been consulted by the Empress's staff on several issues. Tucker had even been escorted to Engineering to assist the other engineers in unraveling the mysteries of _The Defiant_'s systems. He had bragged to T'Pol and the others that he would soon be free - once he convinced The Empress that she could trust him.

"Tucker," said Reed, "I'm going to need your help. If we position ourselves outside the door we can probably catch anyone who comes to pay us a visit by surprise. . .Vulcans or not - I can subdue them with your help."

Reed glanced at T'Pol.

"That would be unwise, Major Reed," said T'Pol, "We should first determine why we have been brought here. For all we know, we have been rescued."

Tucker laughed bitterly.

"You've been rescued, but I'm guessing that the Vulcans in charge of this ship aren't going to be pleased to find Terrans. . . "

The door of he cargo bay slid open, just slightly and two tall, rather menacing-looking Vulcan males entered. They pointed weapons at the humans as they turned their attention to T'Pol, speaking in Vulcan.

"Lady T'Pol," said the first Vulcan as he raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan gesture, "Welcome aboard _The Selok_."

T'Pol felt both Terran and Denobulan eyes on her, but she raised her hand in he traditional gesture and spoke in Vulcan.

"May I ask why I have been brought here?"

"Our Captain got intelligence that that you still lived and felt you might be of use to our cause. I'm afraid the sensors on this Warbird had trouble with _The Defiant_'s hull. We couldn't tell Humans from Vulcans from any other humanoid form. We had to be quick - so we transported everyone in the brig. The Captain thought it logical since most prisoners usually find freedom welcome, whatever the circumstance."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow, and then glanced over at Tucker and Reed. Warbirds were not Vulcan ships. They were a Romulan design, sometimes used by Klingons. Could it be that her people's cousins had decided to assist them in their rebellion?

"That may not be the correct assumption in this case. Watch the Terran males carefully," said T'Pol in Vulcan.

"Understood," said the Vulcan.

Reed, who T'Pol knew to be no imbecile, clearly deduced that they were speaking about him.

"Speak English," he hissed.

"You're in no position to give orders, Major," replied T'Pol, "but you are correct. It is impolite for us to be speaking in Vulcan."

Tucker stepped closer to T'Pol.

"What'd he say?" he asked.

"He simply welcomed me aboard this ship."

"Our Captain wishes to speak with you. . .alone," said the Vulcan, still in Vulcan.

T'Pol nodded.

"My companions will require food and drink," she said in English.

"Why would you care about the the well-being of these Terrans?" asked the Vulcan in Vulcan.

"I do not wish them to suffer," said T'Pol in Vulcan, "Do you enjoy seeing animals suffer?"

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. He spoke in English.

"Lady T'Pol's request for you to be given food and drink will be honored. She is coming with me."

"Will I be returned?" asked T'Pol in English.

The Vulcan said nothing, but he gestured for her to follow him. T'Pol nodded at Phlox, and then she glanced over at Tucker and Reed.

"Don't do anything foolish," she said, "You're no longer on a Terran ship."

Reed didn't look pleased. For that matter, neither did Tucker, but they were both silent as T'Pol followed the Vulcan out of the cargo bay.

****

T'Pol walked next to the two Vulcans who had retrieved her. They led her to a small room.

"Is the Captain in here?"

The lead Vulcan shook his head.

"The Captain said she couldn't stand the sight of you in a Terran uniform, even with your rank stripped from it. She wishes you to dress in Vulcan robes before seeing her. Take your time."

The man gestured inside the small room, which was apparently a cabin. There, she found a set of fine Vulcan robes hanging on a hook. They appeared just her size. T'Pol's cell in _The Defiant_ brig had not had a traditional shower but rather a sonic device that served to cleanse the body. She had missed water showers, so she took the opportunity to take a quick shower before changing into her robes. She even took the time to wash her hair, and as the water cleaned and soothed her body she thought carefully about her situation. She surmised that this was a rebel ship, and that she was being recruited into the rebellion based on her actions against Archer. But those actions had been specifically directed toward Archer - and now that Empress Sato was in control, T'Pol wasn't so sure she wished to join a rebellion. She had worked hard in Starfleet, harder than her human colleagues to prove her loyalty and value. She had hoped that her example would inspire the humans to grant further rights to all Vulcans, but on the other hand, she had been naive to think that Empress Sato would just forgive her attempt at an insurrection - no matter how well that insurrection had worked in Sato's favor.

T'Pol dried her hair and braided it in a traditional Vulcan manner after she put on her robes. She assessed her appearance in the mirror. For the first time since she had left home to join Starfleet, she looked entirely Vulcan.

She emerged from the small cabin and found that only the second Vulcan waited for her.

"Come this way, Lady T'Pol," said the man.

She followed him. After what seemed like a kilometer or two of corridors and a ride up a turbolift, they arrived in some kind of reception room with a view of the blurred stars out the window. The room smelled of Vulcan spices and tea, and it was lit with candles.

"The Captain will be here shortly," said her escort as he disappeared back through the doors.

T'Pol walked over to a table and found a warm kettle. She inhaled the scent of Vulcan tea. She poured herself a cup and enjoyed its smoothness.

"It is agreeable to see you, T'Pol," said a voice behind her.

T'Pol turned around. A familiar woman stood there, giving the Vulcan salute.

"Mother. . ."

T'Pol was shocked. She hadn't seen her mother since the day she left to join Starfleet. T'Pol's father had been killed in a market bombing and T'Les blamed the Terrans for it, though rebels had been directly responsible.

"If the Terrans didn't occupy us, there would be no need for rebellion," T'Les had told her.

T'Pol had disagreed with her mother's logic. She thought the rebellion was destined for failure and had instead pursued an attempt at assimilation. Her attempt had failed.

"You are the Captain of this vessel."

T'Les nodded.

"For the time being," she said, "We obtained her from a group of our Romulan brothers that are sympathetic to our cause. They may not agree with the teachings of Surak, but they fear the dominance of the Terran Empire."

"Why fight a war directly when you can have weaker surrogates do it for you?" replied T'Pol.

"The Romulans may be more logical than they give themselves credit for," said T'Les, "I find your appearance agreeable, daughter. I had feared you wouldn't remove the Terran uniform by choice."

T'Pol continued to sip her tea.

"You must know why I was imprisoned," she replied.

"You did our people a great honor, in your attempt to help the rebellion."

"I failed," said T'Pol, "and all hands on_ The Avenger_ were lost."

T'Les approached.

"It was a regrettable event but hardly a failure. The name _Avenger_ has become a rallying cry among rebel groups. . .not just Vulcan. . .but Orion. . .Tellerite. . .Andorian. . .what you did has had reverberations across the quadrant."

T'Pol closed her eyes.

"The new Empress has the power to crush any rebellion."

"She has one advanced ship and a corrupt government that requires her attention. We intend to make it worth her while to negotiate. We know we can't destroy the Terrans now that they possess such advanced technology, but we can make it in her interest to grant us some kind of autonomy. We were on the verge of a great victory. . .before."

T'Pol shook her head. There was some logic to her mother's words. If the Empress could put an end to the rebellion, it would strengthen her position. Ordinary Terrans had tired of the war and would likely welcome any honorable end to it. But Empress Sato was not a wise woman, and she might still wish to make an example of the rebels.

T'Les approached her daughter and reached up to caress her face.

"You could help our cause. . .all of your knowledge. . .it could be of great use to us. In the name of Surak, I ask you to think logically. You can't return to the Terrans now."

"I hardly think your plan to release me was logical, Mother. It was an unnecessary risk, even with whatever intelligence I can provide."

"This vessel has a cloaking device that made us virtually invisible. We simply needed to wait for _The Defiant_'s shields to be lowered to make the transport. I wish we hadn't had to take the others from the brig, but I understand the Denobulan doctor is among those we liberated. Perhaps you can convince him to stay on as this ship's doctor - since he can't return to Terran service anymore than you can."

T'Pol nodded. She didn't care for Phlox or the way he used his considerable abilities as a physician to harm rather than heal, but he would probably be of use on a rebel ship.

"He will want to be rewarded He doesn't seem to be interested in money, but he is very amenable to female companionship."

T'Les raised her eyebrow.

"There are several Orion and Andorian women among my crew that might be willing."

T'Pol nodded.

"Denobulans are poly-amorous. He'll want more than one female. His human assistant was with him. He will likely wish to keep her with him. Crewman Cutler is agreeable for a Terran and will not be a threat."

'What about the Terran males?"

T'Pol looked out the window toward the stars. She thought carefully about her answer.

"Major Malcolm Reed. He's the embodiment of the worst of the Terrans. He's sadistic, xenophobic and generally disagreeable. He sided with the wrong man during the recent coup, so the Empress imprisoned him. She may have hoped he would come around to her side despite the fact that many of his men would not have been displeased to see him executed. Even Terrans don't respond to leaders who rule solely by fear. I think this made him less of a threat to the new Empress than another man with Reed's skills might have been. Reed certainly could not have held on to power as she has done."

"And the other Terran?"

"Commander Charles Tucker the Third. Chief Engineer. He also sided with Jonathan Archer in the recent coup, so Sato imprisoned him. However, he is the most accomplished engineer in Starfleet, and she couldn't afford to execute him. She required his help to decipher _The Defiant_'s technology."

T'Les was silent for a moment.

"And what manner of man is this Commander Tucker?"

"He is fair. He treated his subordinates well. He always treated non-humans - including myself - as well as the humans. His loyalty to Jonathan Archer was. . . misplaced."

"I heard what you did to him in order to accomplish Forrest's release," said T'Les.

T'Pol was surprised. Tucker had no doubt told Archer and Reed about her forced mind meld, but she was puzzled as to how her mother knew.

"How did you. . ."

"We had an operative on _The Enterprise_, and he managed to get a report transmitted before being killed on _The Avenger_. He was most impressed at your skill in the Syrannite discipline of melding. I was gratified to learn you had not forgotten the lessons I taught you."

"Tucker was tortured because of my actions," said T'Pol softly.

"You regret that," she said, "even though he is a Terran."

"He did nothing to deserve what he suffered. I do not regret helping Forrest, but I regret that Tucker's part in my plan was discovered."

"Most Terrans would not think twice if they caused a Vulcan to be tortured."

"That may be true, but Tucker is not most Terrans. Neither is Cutler. . . Have you heard anything about the other universe, the one _The Defiant _came from?"

T'Les shook her head.

"Allow me to tell you about what it was like."

****

Charles Tucker sat in the corner of the Cargo Bay, wondering how he had managed to find himself on a Vulcan ship speeding as far away from Earth as fast as it could go. He closed his eyes, trying to determine whether he had been liberated or put in a worse prison. He had worked hard in the last few weeks to win Sato's trust. She certainly respected his knowledge and abilities, that much was certain. His mind wandered back to his last conversation with her, when was on his knees in her ready room.

"_You did well, Tucker," she said, "I had five other engineers try and fix that conduit misalignment - none of them could do it. You did it in two hours."_

_Trip looked up and her._

"_I aim to please, Empress."_

"_Did I say you could look at me?" she snapped._

_He lowered his eyes again._

"_It will be my pleasure to help you unlock the secrets of this ship, Empress," he said._

"_Like it was your pleasure to help Archer try and take over the Empire? Like it was your pleasure to help him mutiny against Forrest?"_

_Trip felt his heart sink at her words. Archer, not Forrest, had recognized his skills and recommended him for officer training. He had owed him for that. How was he supposed to know that Archer would start thinking with his dick as far as Sato was concerned? How else to explain how he hadn't seen how much she hated him?_

"_Archer recommended me for officer training," said Tucker, "and I don't forget the people who help me. You've kept me alive, Empress. Don't think I'm gonna forget that."_

_Sato leaned back in her chair and laughed._

"_You know what? I actually respect the Vulcan. You want to know why? She's never tried to convince me of her loyalty. She's never lied to me."_

_Tucker inhaled. He wasn't lying. Now that Archer was dead, he could give all his loyalty to Sato. But he knew better to contradict her._

"_I'll do my best to serve you, Empress. That's all I can do."_

_Hoshi smiled._

"_You're damn lucky you have skills that I need, Tucker," said Sato as she gestured to her guard, "Take him back to the brig."_

He had begun to think Sato planned on keeping him imprisoned for the rest of his life, letting him out only to help her with _The Defiant_'s tech. That wasn't much of life. Perhaps the rebels would value his skills and offer him something more. He concentrated on the smooth hum of the warp engine. . .he realized he would like to get a look at it.

Tucker was broken out of his musings by the approach of Reed.

"We need to form an escape plan," said Reed, "I'm not sure that only the two of us could take this ship, but we could probably manage to get a shuttle or an escape pod."

"And go where, Reed? We're probably close to the edge of Terran space by now. And if we happened to drop out of warp - there's no guaranty that we'd be anywhere near a habitable planet or a ship that's more friendly to Terrans than this one. And frankly, this spacious cargo hold is a lot more appealing than the idea than spending my last days trapped in a shuttle with you waitin' for the oxygen to run out."

"You're a disgrace to the Empire."

"I may be a disgrace, but at least none of my men ever tried to shoot me in the back."

Reed made a move to try and kick Tucker, and he rolled to avoid the blow, knocking Reed off balance. Reed didn't fall, but he took a moment to recover his center of gravity. Tucker thought he was about to speak, when they were both distracted by the cargo bay doors opening.

A Vulcan woman strode in to the room. It took Tucker a couple of seconds, but he recognized T'Pol, despite her new hairstyle and Vulcan robes. She looked practically regal. And she was alone.

"Phlox, you and Cutler have been assigned more comfortable quarters. The Vulcan just outside the door will escort you."

Phlox and Cutler looked at each other, and they both hurried out the doors.

"Bitch," shouted Reed to Cutler, "A complete traitor to the Empire. . . latching on to a Denobulan . . .of all things. Disgusting."

Tucker glanced over at T'Pol and pleasant memories over took him. He smirked. Reed didn't know what he was missing, having never latched on to an alien.

"I had almost forgotten. You've got a thing for alien tail yourself, Tucker. But a Vulcan? Even you wouldn't be that sick. An Orion I could understand, but fucking a Vulcan would be like fucking an iceberg."

_Not necessarily_, thought Tucker, but he didn't say a word. After that stunt she pulled on him, he didn't have any reason to keep his promise of silence. But he did anyway.

T'Pol approached them.

"The Captain of this vessel regrets that she has inconvenienced you both. Her mission was to liberate me alone. I am attempting to convince her to allow you both your freedom, once we find a suitable place to release you.

"When I return to the Empire," said Reed, "I'll make it my mission to hunt you down and destroy you."

Tucker laughed. Reed was hardly a diplomat.

"You think Sato's going to believe the rebels just let you go? She didn't trust you before. There's no way she's going welcome you back into the fold."

T'Pol was silent, but Tucker recognized that Reed had understood the truth of his words. Some concepts were not lost, even on him.

"Just let me off at the nearest space port," said Reed, "and you'll never hear from me again."

"If the Captain decides you're not a threat to us," said T'Pol, "She will honor that request. Tucker, do you wish us to free you?"

Tucker nodded. He had no idea where he was going to go, but his skills were marketable enough. He would find his way.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One._

_Rating: PG-13, mostly for language_

**Chapter**** 3**

For the first time in months, T'Pol had slept soundly and well. She sat on the edge of her bed, in her spacious quarters. The bed was sumptuous and piled with velvet pillows and the room equipped with amenities - such as a bathtub and a fireplace - that she couldn't imagine ever being installed on a Terran ship. The ceiling was vaulted, and painted with an abstract design. The floor was covered with silken rugs. The Romulans believed in comfort and beauty, that was for certain.

T'Pol looked over at the fire that burned vigorously. It may have been generated by natural gas and highly controlled, but it was still genuine fire. On the Terran ships, she had had to smuggle in a single candle for her nightly meditations.

The closet of this room had been filled with Vulcan clothing of all kinds, all in colors that had been her favorites as a young woman. T'Les had clearly spent some time creating a Vulcan wardrobe for her. T'Pol ran her hands over the robes, but she felt they were impractical for daily life on a starship. She dressed in a pair of pants and a simple shirt instead. And she put on her Starfleet boots. They were comfortably broken in, and she saw no reason to not wear them.

The chime on her door rang.

"Come in," she said in Vulcan.

T'Les appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning, Daughter," said T'Les.

"Good morning, Mother. Or should I say Captain? Perhaps I should have risen earlier in order to prepare you your morning meal."

"You're not a guest, T'Pol. I hope will see this ship as your home very soon."

T'Les entered the room.

"Thank you for all the clothing. It was not necessary for you to be so generous."

"It's been many years since I had the opportunity to obtain clothes for you. I enjoyed the task. You should know these are the best quarters on the ship, normally reserved for the captain. But I found them too comfortable for my liking. The Romulans are illogical in the resources that they waste on comfort. Besides, I don't intend to be captain of a warbird for much longer. I don't have the skills to make best use of this vessel."

T'Pol inhaled the dry air of her room. T'Les had several times indicated that her command of this vessel was temporary. T'Pol had gotten the hint, but she had not responded.

"I cannot become captain of this vessel."

"Archer - a man whose hatred of Vulcans was well-known to all of us - made you his first officer over the Terran Reed for a reason. Forrest kept you on as such because he knew of your worth. You have the ability to captain a starship. All your Starfleet training. . ."

"The humans chose me because they didn't trust Reed not to shoot them in the back. It wasn't about my talents. As a Vulcan, I could not be promoted to captain so was therefor a safer and more logical choice."

T'Pol stared at the flames. T'Les approached her daughter and placed her hands on the younger woman's shoulders.

"You underestimate yourself, daughter. That's something that you never did before. Living among Terrans has not been good for you."

"What would be the mission of this vessel? Assuming I did take command, which I have not yet agreed to do."

"A new leader has emerged among our people. Her understanding of Surak's teachings is remarkable in one so young. She's a Syrannite like we. . . like I am. Like you, she believes the Terran Empire cannot be toppled and the logical goal of the rebellion should be obtaining a measure autonomy and equal rights for our people."

T'Pol turned to her mother and searched her face. It was mask.

"This vessel would protect rebel positions, at first. Not only from Terrans but Klingon marauders. T'Pau might have other tasks in mind. Hopefully, you will eventually escort the Syrannite Council to negotiations."

T'Pol was still silent. Her mother clearly held a high position within the Syrranite rebels.

"How are the others? The ones you abducted during your rescue of me?"

"I allowed Phlox and Cutler to join the others in the crew mess for breakfast this morning. Phlox was quite friendly with the rest of the crew. The woman is still fearful. The two human males have been confined to quarters on a lower deck, under guard. What the Romulans use as a brig is barbaric by Vulcan standards, so I chose not to put them there."

T'Pol nodded but was silent for a few moments. She had another more personal matter she wanted to discuss with her mother, but she was unsure of how to broach the sensitive subject. She wanted to ask details about mind melds and telepathy. As a long practicing Syrranite, her mother was far more knowledgeable about melding than she was.

Something had been troubling T'Pol since she had melded with Tucker. She had reached his mind easily - far more easily than the two other Terrans on whom she had performed melds. Since the meld, T'Pol had been worried, not only by the ethics of her own actions but also about what she had sensed in Tucker's mind. But she hadn't seen her mother in years and she was unsure how T'Les would react to her inquiry.

She instead turned her mind back to the business at hand, and the decision she was now faced with.

"I must think about your offer, Mother."

"Shall I have our cook send you up a meal?"

T'Pol nodded and her mother left her alone. Rather than meditate as she should have done, her mind wandered in a most un-disciplined fashion. T'Pol closed her eyes. . .remembering. . ..

_T'Pol paced sickbay, unable to even sit still for a moment. She felt ashamed and un-Vulcan. And the restlessness was the least worrisome of the sensations that had been creeping through her body since she returned from a survey mission._

"_The bacteria on the surface has triggered a Pon Farr cycle in you, Commander."_

"_That's impossible. . .I am unbonded. My intended mate died over twenty years ago. . .I would only enter the ponn far if he had. . ."_

"_That's not necessarily true, my dear, unbonded Vulcan woman have been known to have natural mating cycles on their own. It's rare but it has occurred. But in any case, this doesn't appear natural. It was triggered by the bacteria. I'm afraid I have no other advice to give you but to find a mate. I certainly can't be bothered to find another cure for you when the solution is so simple. I'm sure any one of the Vulcan males on the ship would be gratified . . . or if you'd rather, I'd be happy to. . ."_

_T'Pol shot Phlox a look that indicated he wouldn't survive an attempt to become her mate. She jumped down from the bio bed and headed out of sickbay. Phlox stopped her by blocking her way, but he was careful not to touch her._

"_My dear," said Phlox, "Let me know who you choose. I'll need to see that he gets the next 48 hours off - the same as you. I'll tell the Captain you both came down with a fever. All will be kept confidential, I assure you."_

_T'Pol nodded as she exited. Phlox had his own peculiar brand of medical ethics, and she believed he would keep his mouth shut. _

_He was also right about the proper course of treatment. It was a waste of resources for him to seek a cure when all she needed to do was mate with someone. T'Pol entered her quarters and began pacing. _

_Twice before, she had been compelled to satisfy a man's pon farr, but in both those cases the men in question were bonded with wives that were unavailable. A bond could therefor not have formed or she would have resisted assisting them. She began considering each of the three Vulcan men currently aboard the ship, none of whom were bonded as far as she knew. Any one of them would understand her position, unusual though it was in an unbonded female, but if one of them mated with her a bond might form. _

_She didn't want to bond anyone. She had always been secretly grateful that Koss had chosen to join the rebels. His execution had been an agreeable turn of events from her perspective, freeing her from arcane traditions of Vulcan marriage. The last thing she wanted to do was bond with another Vulcan male. She'd then be obliged to satisfy his blood fever every seven years. Given her previous experiences, the thought was disagreeable._

_To maintain her freedom, she would have to mate with a non-Vulcan. It couldn't be an Andorian, as they had latent telepathic abilities and a bond might form. The doctor was not an option. Despite his congenial manner, he was a sadist toward any creature unfortunate to find itself on the wrong end of one his experiments. He might see satisfying her pon farr as an experiment._

_She would have to choose a Terran - as distasteful as the notion was. In her mind, she scrolled through the officers - since she had no intention of lowering herself to mate with an enlisted man. Captain Forrest was mated with Sato. . . plus he was her commanding officer and therefor too complicated a choice. Archer was not an option. He loathed Vulcans. He would see mating with her akin to mating with an animal. It was just as well. She felt nauseous at the thought of mating with him. She thought of Reed, but he was cruel like Phlox was cruel but didn't even bother with outward friendliness. She also feared what violence Reed might do to her during mating._

_That left. . .Tucker. Charles Tucker III. T'Pol did her best to clear her mind and use whatever shreds of logic she had left. Tucker had a reputation. Since his accident most human women had rejected him. Human women were too shallow to see beyond the scars and notice that he was still a well-formed humanoid. Alien women, on the other hand, were more opened minded. Andorians, Orions. . .there was even a rumor that Tucker had mated with one of Phlox's wives when she had visited the ship. With Phlox's approval. But Tucker had never confirmed or denied any of these rumors. He would simply tell anyone who inquired that his sexual life was none of their concern. The man knew how to be discreet. He was not physically disagreeable, despite his injuries. He had never been cruel to her. He had always treated her as least as well as he treated other humans. He was the logical choice._

_T'Pol went to her monitor and checked the shift roster He was not on duty._

"_Computer, locate Commander Tucker."_

"_Commander Tucker is in his quarters."_

_T'Pol inhaled sharply. She knew what she had to do._

****

Tucker had just finished his own breakfast, if you could call it that. It was some hopelessly bland Vulcan soup. At least in _The Defiant_'s brig he had had choice of whatever he wanted to eat. On the other hand, he had been subjected to the company of Reed, Phlox and the others. Maybe the lousy food was a worthwhile trade off.

He had been confined to a small cabin, albeit one bigger than the one that had been his on _Enterprise_. He had a window and an empty desk, fashioned from wood rather than metal. His bed was comfortable - and big by Starfleet standards. Romulans clearly didn't expect their junior people to sleep alone, unlike Starfleet.

When the two, big Vulcans had escorted him from the cargo bay to his new digs, he'd asked a few questions about the ship. It wasn't as impressive as _The Defiant_, but it was a beauty of a design by the current universe and current time's standards. He asked where the Vulcans had built such a ship, and one of the Vulcans had replied that it was a Romulan design.

Tucker didn't know much about the Romulans, only that _Enterprise_ had once come across a Romulan minefield and nearly been blown out of space. Three of Reed's men were killed disengaging one of the mines from the hull.

Romulans had cloaking technology, and they were clever. And they apparently kept their ships warm, just like Vulcans. Or maybe the Vulcans just set the controls that way.

The door chimed. It was actually more of a gong.

"Come in," said Tucker, wondering who would bother with a chime.

Phlox strode into the room, wearing one of his creepy Denobulan smiles.

"How are you, Commander?"

Tucker sighed.

"I've been worse. I've been better. To what do I owe this visit?"

Phlox sat down in one of the velvet chairs in the corner.

"Not being human, I've been given some freedom on this ship. I asked if I could come visit you, and the Vulcans said it was fine with them. The Captain of this vessel apparently thinks of it as a matter of honor that you the other humans are well-treated."

Tucker grinned.

"Do they know Reed was in charge of The Massacre at The Forge? If they did, they might find it honorable to blow him out an airlock."

"I haven't found it necessary to enlighten our hosts as to Major Reed's involvement in that particular incident. Our hosts have put me in charge of Liz Cutler, and I've agreed to make sure she doesn't do anything 'too human' and cause trouble. I have vouched for her."

Tucker rolled his good eye. Cutler's bizarre crush on Phlox had been the talk of _Enterprise_, but Phlox had known better than to involve himself with a human woman. That would have put a target on his back. Now that those barriers had been removed, Phlox was clearly going to take advantage of the situation.

"Have you seen T'Pol?" asked Tucker.

"She wasn't in the mess hall this morning. But I did have an interesting conversation with one of the Andorians there. He told me that the rebels rescued T'Pol so that she could command this vessel. After her actions with_ The Avenger, _she's considered a hero."

Tucker shook his head, confused.

"She got a few dozen aliens killed, how does that make her a hero?"

"They consider it a noble failure. . . and an act of profound bravery. Archer's reputation for hating Vulcans. . . well, let's just say the Vulcans appreciate the efforts that T'Pol and myself took to prevent him from gaining power, as foolhardy as they were."

Tucker snorted. He should have known better than to think Archer could have held on to power. The man had a talent for inspiring contempt - and the Vulcans hated him so much that it had apparently united all their different factions. T'Pol had always been firmly loyal to the Empire, that he knew, and even she couldn't handle the idea of Emperor Archer. But, if had had to guess, Tucker would have bet on Reed as the one to overthrow Archer, not Sato. That had come out of left field, so to speak.

"So, is T'Pol going to join the rebels?"

Phlox leaned over.

"Nobody knows," he replied, "The scuttlebutt is that she told the current captain that she's thinking about it."

Tucker sighed.

"Well," said Phlox, "You should hope she does take it. It could benefit your situation if T'Pol was in charge. She has affection for you, after all."

Tucker squinted at Phlox through his good eye. Maybe he didn't know that the rebels had promised to release him.

"Remember, I am the only other person who knows of her little bout with blood fever all those months ago. I had to give you medical leave when she chose you. I had offered myself, but she rejected me. Quite rudely, in fact. I was frankly surprised that she didn't choose a Vulcan. . .but anyway. . .she must have some residual affection for you."

Tucker glared at Phlox.

"I told her I wouldn't discuss that with anyone, and if she had any affection for me she wouldn't have brainwashed me into sabotaging the cloaking device. Surely, you recall those hours I spent in the booth because of her?"

Phlox nodded.

"You handled it very well. Didn't give up one whit of information."

Tucker leaned forward.

"I didn't have any to give. She pulled this Vulcan mind-melding shit on me. . .I don't remember a thing."

Tucker seethed. She had violated his mind, and he couldn't do damn thing about it. It made his skin crawl, and he felt dirty. Worse, he wasn't in a position to make her pay for what she'd done, not now.

"Vulcan telepathic abilities are quite remarkable," said Phlox, who looked over at the chronometer, which had been set to Earth numerals.

"Well," said Phlox, "I must be going. I promised to take a look at some the crew of this ship. There's a medic aboard but no official doctor."

"Do they know you spent half your days in Starfleet figuring out how to efficiently kill the various species you're such an expert at treating?"

Phlox shook his head.

"I haven't enlightened them. But perhaps my reputation proceeds me. Anyway, be well, Commander. I shall visit again if the mood strikes me."

Tucker said nothing as Phlox sauntered out of his quarters.

***

T'Pol left her quarters and wandered the halls of the warbird. She had been given a tricorder that contained a map of the ship, and she carefully noted the differences between this and a standard Terran or Vulcan starship. It was well-designed - sleek and efficient but also aesthetically pleasing in the interior. The lighting was brighter than most Terran or Vulcan ships in the hallway but just as dim as the other vessels in the crew quarters.

T'Pol found her way to the bridge and strode into a large space where her mother sat in an ornate chair, staring at an expansive viewscreen. One of the Vulcans approached T'Pol cautiously, but T'Les waved him away with a quick gesture.

"We've sustained Warp 6 for several hours now. We can go up to 6.5 if the cloak is disengaged. She also has level 5 shielding and forward and aft phaser canons," said T'Les proudly.

"She'll still be no match for _The Defiant_," said T'Pol, "and there is little doubt Sato will see that the technology of that ship is recreated on every Terran warship."

T'Les nodded.

"Since we are in possession of Starfleet's finest engineer," said T'Les, "That goal will take her longer than it would have. T'Pau believes that Sato may well be willing to negotiate a peace - we just need to do it from a strong position."

T'Les gestured to a door on the other side of the room.

"Come, T'Pol, allow me to show you what Romulans believe constitutes a ready room."

T'Pol followed her mother through the doors. She saw spacious room with a large window. There was no desk, only a chaise and some low chairs and a long table. Embedded in the table was some kind of digital screen.

"If you so choose, you can see inside any room on the ship using the controls in that table. And there's a private escape pod with a subspace transmitter."

T'Pol knelt to examine the table console.

"It is remarkable design," she said.

"Indeed," replied T'Les, "You know the Terrans would never let you captain any vessel."

T'Pol sighed.

"I will take your offer, Mother."

"It is gratifying you see the logic in it, Daughter. But it was T'Pau that suggested that you take command of this vessel. I merely supported the decision. Your first order of business will be to take me to T'Kuht, where T'Pau's base is located. She requires my attendance."

T'Pol nodded.

"What about Reed and Tucker? Where will we release them?"

"There are several outposts on the way to Vulcan. I shall solicit suggestions from the crew as to the safest choice. It shouldn't be more than a few days. Although, you might convince Tucker to stay on. . .his skills might be useful and it would be logical to keep him away from Sato. "

T'Pol nodded, though she didn't think Tucker would ever join the rebels.

"I will notify the crew that I have turned command over to you. They are expecting the news."

T'Pol put her hands behind her back and stared out the window. She found her circumstances confusing - not just her sudden position among the rebels, but she felt the situation with Tucker needed to be resolved before he left the ship. She just didn't know what precisely the situation was.

"T'Pol, are you well?" asked T'Les.

"Yes, Mother," she said, "Go inform the crew. I require meditation to prepare for my new role."

T'Pol looked over her shoulder and saw her mother make the traditional Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper, Daughter."

T'Pol looked back out the window, doubting she would do either in her new position.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R for strong language and sex._

_A/N: Alien sex practices and mores are described here. Remember, the MU is a dark place._

**_Chapter Four_**

Talas placed a long, white cigarette in her mouth and leaned over to Phlox, who was still catching his breath as reclined on his bed, naked. Talas's antennae twitched playfully and her blue skin glowed in the starlight.

"In most cultures, it's customary for a man to light his woman's cigarette, doctor," said Talas.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, my dear. Smoking is generally prohibited on Terran ships."

Phlox sat up and began looking around.

"There's a flame generator in the nightstand. At least, all the other cabins have them."

Phlox retrieved a long, metal torch from the drawer and activated it. He leaned over and lit Talas's cigarette. She inhaled deeply and blew a ring of shimmering white smoke.

"Would you like drag? It's not nearly as toxic as Terran tobacco. But it should give you a nice little buzz."

Phlox nodded, and she gave him a drag. He choked on the smoke, which burned his lungs.

"For one of the two surviving heroes of _The Avenger_, that's not very impressive," said Talas,

"I seemed to impress you earlier, my dear," said Phlox, as he recovered.

Talas ran a seductive finger up his arm.

"That you did. . .I had heard that Denobulan men are the only ones in the quadrant that can keep up with Andorians. . .now I know for certain."

Phlox smiled, in his big Denboluan way.

"Well, I'm glad I could be more to you than a 'thank you' fuck."

Talas got up and walked to the window, not bothering to cover up. Phlox had a full view of her shapely blue form.

"After what you did, it would have been my pleasure in any case," laughed Talas, still smoking, "but you made it worth my while in more ways than one, but I am surprised. . .and a little disappointed that you didn't have your human friend. . .the woman. . . join us."

Phlox laughed.

"Humans can be quite prudish. They're not as bad a Vulcans, of course, but they do like to pretend they're monogamous. And Liz has only been my concubine for a week or so. I'll have to ease her into some of the more. . .unusual pleasures that will come with the job."

Talas stamped out her cigarette and rejoined Phlox on the bed.

"Unusual to a human. I can't imagine what the poor thing would think of an Andorian wedding night. Just let me know when she's amenable. I find her quite attractive. And I've never had relations with a human, male or female. So, I'm more than game."

Phlox sat up on his elbows.

"If you'd like to try a human male, the light haired one. . .the engineer . . .was notorious on our ship for his interest in non-human females. He even serviced my wife Feezal when she visited me some years ago. It was very kind of him since I was far too busy to keep her entertained."

Talas smiled, and she leaned over and kissed Phlox. He responded by caressing her antenna. She moaned in response.

"That's nice. What about the other Terran? The dark-haired one?"

Phlox shrugged.

"Major Malcolm Reed? I've never heard his name attached to anyone, male or female. Human or not. His personal life is a mystery."

Talas smiled and both her antennae stood up straight.

"That sounds like a challenge."

"A dangerous one, my dear. Reed is not a kind man. And he's hardly been a hero to the rebellion."

Talas grinned. She ran her foot up Phlox's leg.

"Heroes are good fucks, but I'm told villains are even better."

Phlox grabbed her hand with his talon-like one, and their eyes met.

"Well, in that case, let me tell you about my recent adventure with a Tholian prisoner."

***

Tucker reclined on his bed, alone, sipping on a glass of what he had been told was Romulan Ale and watching the blur of stars out the window. The Vulcan steward who had brought the bottle to him said it was a gift from the new captain. It packed a punch, but not as big a punch as the news that T'Pol had accepted a commission as captain of the warbird.

It had been a week since his abduction, and he was growing restless and worried that now that T'Pol was in charge, the Vulcans wouldn't keep their promise to release him.

_Figures that bitch would join up with the rebellion_, he thought.

Sato has always hated her. Probably because Forrest liked her so much. As far as Tucker was concerned, T'Pol was lucky as hell that Sato didn't have her executed, despite what she had done for Forrest. She had also been lucky as hell that the rebels decided to rescue her. Her good luck had been his bad.

The strange gong on the door sounded.

"Come in," he drawled, without bothering to get up, but he could see the door out his good eye.

Liz Cutler, wearing what appeared to be simple Vulcan robes, walked into his cabin.

"Hello, Cutler," said Tucker, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Phlox is busy. He's been busy most of the night. I got bored in the ship's library so I asked one of the Vulcans if I could come see you. He agreed and showed me down here."

Tucker sat up. She did look tired, and the black robes washed her out.

He had hardly known Cutler before, and even after spending a couple of months in the brig with her, he didn't know much about her - only that she was from Saratoga, California and had studied exobiology at Mount Holyoke College. She had occasionally tried to make conversation with him or with T'Pol during their weeks in the brig, but mostly she just talked with Phlox.

She was kind of sweet. Too sweet to be in Starfleet that was for sure. But Sato had fooled more than one man into thinking she was sweet and accommodating. No doubt the new Empress thought Cutler's kindness was an act. Sato had probably been worried that Cutler's affection for Phlox would make her a threat - that she would try and free him or pass him information. And even though Tucker didn't think Cutler's sweetness was an act, there was still a real possibility that Phlox could have manipulated Cutler into helping him in some way. She certainly seemed blind to the doctor's flaws.

Sato probably thought locking her up with Phlox would be a perverse kind of punishment for both of them. Humans looked down on men like himself who had sex with alien women, but they completely ostracized human women who had sex with alien men. And many human men believed the only appropriate punishment for an alien man who had sex with a human woman was death. If the guards even suspected Phlox had screwed Cutler- consensual or not - they probably would have killed him in his sleep.

"Would you care for a glass of Romulan Ale?" he asked.

"It's eight in the morning," replied Cutler.

Tucker was silent.

"Okay," she said.

"Help yourself."

Cutler poured herself a glass of the blue libation.

"They serve this stuff at dinner in the mess hall. I've even seen some of the Vulcans drink it. It reminds me of absinthe. Have you heard that they've made T'Pol captain?"

Tucker sighed. Cutler sat down gingerly in one of the upholstered chairs in the corner.

"Yup."

"That was the whole point of rescuing her. Her mother was the one who planned the whole thing. Can you believe it?"

Tucker was slightly surprised, as he hadn't heard that part of the story. He felt a twinge of envy. Neither his mother or father had even contacted him while he was locked up. The only letters he had gotten were from his baby sister, also called Elizabeth. She was too sweet for the world, too. Tucker sat up.

"Well, they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," said Tucker, "Are they treating you okay, Liz?"

Cutler nodded.

"Everyone on the ship thinks T'Pol and Phlox are big heroes for what they tried to do. 'Remember The Avenger' has become the rebellions's 'Remember the Alamo'. And since Phlox has. . .claimed me as his prize so to speak . . .everyone has treated me pretty well, so far."

Tucker got her meaning, but he was in no position to judge her. None whatsoever.

"You okay with that?"

She nodded and downed her entire glass of Romulan Ale.

"You've probably heard the rumors about my interest in Phlox. . .so now I've finally gotten a chance to . . .well, it's better than rotting in the brig. He's kind enough- to me anyway."

Tucker looked her straight in the eye.

"Say the word, and I"ll insist that T'Pol let me take you with me when I go. She owes me. You don't have to stay here. You're an educated woman. You could find a place for yourself somewhere on the frontier."

Cutler nodded and looked out the window. There were tears in her eyes.

"How do I know that wouldn't be out of the frying pan and into the fire?"

Tucker smiled at her.

"Ah, I'd be a perfect gentleman. You know my reputation. I'm always a perfect gentleman, where human women are concerned, at least."

Liz nodded and smiled.

"By the way, have you seen Reed?" she asked.

"Not since we were taken from the cargo bay," replied Tucker, "but the Vulcan who has been bringing me my food - he's weirdly talkative for a Vulcan. He told me that Reed has stayed in his quarters and been no trouble at all. Hasn't asked to see T'Pol. But when he was told this was a Romulan ship, he asked if he could access the library database for books on military strategy that he could run through the translator. That's been his only request."

Cutler folded her arms and shivered, despite the warmth of the ship.

"From what I've heard about Romulans, Reed would fit right in."

"They've apparently got one big Orion and two mean Vulcans guarding his door," replied Tucker, "but I don't think he'll try anything. He'll wait to see if they will release him. He's too smart. But I figure he'll try and get back to Earth and worm his way into Sato's good graces the moment he's released."

"You thinking along the same lines, Tucker?"

Trip shook his head.

"I don't know. Haven't decided yet. I backed the wrong pony in Archer, but I'm not entirely sure if Sato is a good bet, either. My first order of business is to get the hell away from these rebels. After that, I'll start thinking about where I'll go."

Cutler got up.

"I'd better go," she said, "Phlox told me he wanted me back by 9am."

"Think about what I said, Liz."

She smiled at him.

"I will."

As she left, Tucker felt sorry for Cutler. Her only mistake was not being discreet in her affection for Phlox. For that, she'd had her life turned inside out.

His mind wandered back to T'Pol. She did owe him and not just for that insane melding shit she'd pulled. It had been one year, two months and four days since his life had been turned inside out by saving her life.

***

_She sat on the floor of Tucker's small, dimly lit quarters, shivering but still sweating. She had explained clearly her situation and asked - no begged - for discretion._

_He first thought of mocking her, teasing her about how twisted Vulcans were. But he recognized real fear in her eyes. This was serious business to her._

"_Why me?" he asked simply._

"_You have a reputation for keeping your mouth shut. This is a highly personal matter, and as I said, I do not wish anyone else to have knowledge of it. Nor do I wish to entangle myself with a member of my own species."_

"_And I thought it was for my good looks," he drawled._

_Tucker looked her up and down. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed her before, he had. Other humans may have been prudish about screwing aliens, but since his accident he had discovered a world of pleasures that were unknown to most of his kind. Maybe not as many pleasures - or women - as the rumors attributed to him, but he had certainly had enough experience with alien snatch to contemplate what it would be like to fuck a Vulcan._

_Specifically, he had imagined fucking this Vulcan, given that she was the only female one on Enterprise. They had even spent some memorable time in decon together. That was the only time he had ever touched a Vulcan. . .he remembered how her hair had smelled of copper and strange spices and how hot her curvaceous body had felt beneath his calloused fingers. He had thought she had fever until he remember that their body temperature was higher. If she had been any other race, he would had pressed his luck, but she had been completely cold to him, despite the heat of her body._

_Be careful what you wish for, he thought as he noticed her shaking hands. Somehow, this favor was going to have consequences. Deep down, he knew that._

_Tucker walked over to the comm._

"_So, Phlox will give me 48 hours off if I do this for you?"_

_T'Pol nodded._

"_Well then, how can I refuse?"_

_He felt her eyes on him as he composed a simple message to Phlox. He had caught the same fever as T'Pol and was going to be in bed for the next 48 hours. He snorted at the truth of the words as he approached her._

_He knelt down in front of her. She moved to embrace him, but he stopped her._

"_Just a minute, darlin'," he said, and he gently removed her boots and her socks._

_He stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her up with him._

_She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, and he pulled her into a hard, wet kiss. She moaned into his mouth and her hands moved to the zipper on his uniform. He stopped her._

_He decided they should probably shower before getting down to business. He knew Vulcan women had sensitive noses, and no matter how feral she had gone - he figured he better clean up first. He also thought a cold shower might calm her down a bit. She was awfully strong, and he didn't want to be overpowered by her._

"_C'mon," he whispered and led her into his small bathroom._

_She seemed confused at first, but she obeyed him. He turned on the water and set the shower for Vulcan body temperature, minus 3 degrees. It would be warm to him and cold to her that way. His action had taken only seconds, but when he turned around, she had divested herself of her uniform._

_He caught his breath. Alien or not, she was exceptionally beautiful. Her bronze skin was perfect and unmarked. Her body was amazing, but he found himself staring in to her big, brown eyes. For the first time, he noticed flecks of green in them. He brushed her hair back and caressed her pointed ear._

_She went to work on his uniform, and he worried she'd be repulsed by the scars on his body. Vulcans were notoriously fond of beauty, and he was no longer beautiful. As he kicked aside both their uniforms, she gazed at him. He waited for a look of regret to form on her face._

_Instead, she traced one of the scars on his chest with her fingers. As she did so, their eyes met again. He saw no regret._

***

Tucker opened his eyes. Since then, he had been plagued by dreams that were also memories. It didn't happen all the time, but more often than he cared to admit, as he slept, he relived those two days with T'Pol.

She had been so open and insatiable - ready and eager to please him. And she had certainly enjoyed herself. There was no faking that. She had even smiled at him once or twice.

When she left him, her face a mask once again, he remembered thinking there was no way she would forget this. There's no way she wouldn't come back for more.

But she hadn't. She kept her word. She behaved like it had never happened. He, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about it. Even when he had found himself in bed with one of the new Orion transfers, he found himself imagining that the green-skinned woman was T'Pol. The same thing had happened with an Andorian engineer from _The Avenger_.

His interest in other women waned. . .occasionally, he approached T'Pol. . .dropping hints that he wanted to . . .but she had always been so cold. So Vulcan. No wonder she had found it so easy to make him her bitch during the mutiny. He would have followed her into hell, all she need do was raise her Vulcan eyebrow at him and crook her little finger.

***

Decks above, T'Pol stared into the fire in her bedroom. She was also remembering the time she spent with Tucker during her Ponn Far. The memories were blurry and fragmented, but she tried desperately to recall a specific moment about half-way through the . . .ordeal. He was on top of her. . .and inside her. She had been dizzy and euphoric. . .and she had reached up and placed her fingers on his temple. She had opened her mind to his and allowed their minds to connect as sure as their bodies were connected.

She hadn't thought it was possible to bond with a human. Their minds were too weak and unfocused, but since that night she had been troubled by memories in the form of dreams. Vulcans weren't supposed to dream.

Nevertheless, she had always dismissed the possibility that a bond had formed. But when she had melded with him, she sensed a deep connection. Deeper than there should have been.

She stared into the fire, contemplating what to do.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R for strong language and sex_

**Chapter 5**

A week into her captaincy, T'Pol made her way down to the ship's engineering room and squinted a bit in the room's bright light. Her head had ached all morning, and no amount of meditation had relieved it. She had resolved to ask her mother for neural pressure if the discomfort did not dissipate by the evening, but she set aside the pain to concentrate on her surroundings.

She had already admired the sleek and efficient Romulan engine design, which she guessed was as safe as the most conservative of Vulcan designs. The crew that worked on this engine would not be exposed to delta radiation in the way that most Starfleet engineers were. Despite humans' sense of self-superiority, it seemed the Romulans cared far more for the safety of their people than the humans did.

She found her ship's Vulcan engineer working on his hands and knees, examining the drive's back panel with great concentration. After dropping out of the Vulcan Engineering academy to join the rebels, Kov had served on several ships before T'Les had chosen him for duty on _The Selok_. Life had clearly been hard for the young man, as he was thin even for a Vulcan and his complexion was more white than green.

"Kov," said T'Pol, "When do you estimate the warp engine will be back online?"

Kov stood up.

"It's difficult to say, Captain," he said gravely, "We've only had possession of this ship for seven weeks and three days. The Romulans left us technical manuals, but I've already exhausted the protocols. It should be straightforward to restart the engine after an ion storm, but I haven't yet been able to do it."

T'Pol examined the readings on a nearby console, which were in Vulcan. The ship's computer would automatically drop out of warp and shut down the warp drive if it detected an ion storm above a certain intensity. It fell to the ship's engineer to restart the drive manually once the computer determined the danger had passed, but Kov had been working on achieving that goal for five hours and had not yet been successful.

"One of the human - _guests_ - was Chief Engineer on a Starfleet ship. He has great expertise. I will ask him to assist you."

Kov paused for a moment.

"Do you think he will agree?"

"The nearest colony is 22 months away at impulse. It is in his best interest for the warp drive to be operational, but you will monitor his work closely."

Kov nodded as T'Pol headed off to Tucker's quarters.

***

Tucker had a splitting headache and the vision in his good eye had become blurred. He thought at first it was the stress of his situation, and then he settled on the Vulcan gravity of the ship as the best explanation for his symptoms. Tucker didn't particularly trust Phlox as a physician, but he figured he'd better go see the doctor if his symptoms didn't let up.

Realizing he was probably no longer a member of Starfleet, Tucker had changed out of the futuristic red uniform that he had worn in _The Defiant_'s brig and had donned a dark suit with a high collar that had been brought to him. It was a Vulcan design, even though no one would ever mistake him for a Vulcan. The clothes felt strange at first, but he had gotten used to them. He figured where ever these rebels dropped him, Starfleet wouldn't be very popular and it would be best not to advertise his affiliation with the Empire.

Tucker heard the now familiar gong on his door, and since he was standing, he opened the door himself. He expected the steward or maybe Cutler or Phlox again. He was mildly shocked to see T'Pol standing there. Even though she was wearing a pair of black pants and a white shirt rather than formal Vulcan robes he has last seen her wear, she still looked extremely, disconcertingly Vulcan. Except, she still wore her standard issue Starfleet boots. The same boots that had showed up in his dreams the previous night as he had relived removing them from her pretty feet.

"Good afternoon, Commander," she said.

"I'm not sure I'm a Commander anymore," said Tucker.

"Unlike me, you were never formally stripped of your rank."

"And yet, you've got a title, don't cha, _Captain_?"

T'Pol nodded, but she said nothing. He gestured for her to enter his quarters. She stepped into the center of his room.

_Damn Vulcans and their awkward silences. _

"I take it you didn't come down here to inquire as to my health," he drawled.

"You may have noticed we're no longer traveling at warp," she said.

Tucker nodded. They had been at impulse for nearly eight hours. He had hoped it was because they had arrived at a spaceport where he could be released.

"Last night, we flew through the edge of an ion storm, and it knocked out our warp drive. Our engineer is Vulcan and not overly familiar with the Romulan design. I thought perhaps you might be willing to assist him restart the engine."

Tucker glowered at her.

"Why would I help out my kidnappers?"

"The sooner it's fixed, the sooner you'll be free."

Tucker inhaled, but he didn't respond.

"We have limited resources, but I can pay you for your time. Whatever you choose to do after your release, the credits we can provide should be helpful."

Tucker stepped forward. He knew just how close he needed to get to her to make her uncomfortable. He leaned forward and inhaled the coppery smell of her, and he thought briefly of asking for another form of payment. She locked eyes with him.

"It may not be _The Defian_t's engine, but you'll be the first human to get a look at a Romulan warp drive," she whispered.

_Damn_, thought Tucker, _She knows how to get to me. _

"Show me the way," he said, still close enough to her that he saw cheeks flush just a bit green, "but I do expect those credits. 5000 of them."

"2500"

"4000"

"Agreed. I'll have them deposited in an untraceable credit account based though an Alpha Centari Bank. You'll be given a number to access them."

"Works for me," he whispered and leaned just a little closer.

He had a strong impulse to pull her into his arms and kiss her hard - the way he had in his dream the night before. He imagined pushing her to the bed and fucking the logic right out of her. It would serve her right for all she'd done to him.

But he didn't move.

They just stood there looking at each other until she finally spoke.

"I shall show you the way to engineering," she said, heading to the door.

Without a word, he followed.

***

T'Pol glanced over at Tucker as the lift took them to engineering, hoping she appeared calm. In his quarters, her mind had filled with images of intense, lustful things he wanted to do to her as punishment for her crimes against him. As illogical as it was, he wanted to get his revenge by giving her pleasure, and she had badly wanted to let him. Now that she knew they were bonded, her mind had welcomed this invasion. It had taken every bit of restraint she possessed to push back the desire he had triggered. Another sexual encounter would only intensify the bond, and she couldn't allow that to happen.

Thankfully, his mind was now focused on other matters. She sensed he was excited to get a look at the ship's warp drive and grateful to have a task to relieve his boredom. He was also in pain.

"Are we anywhere near sickbay?" he asked.

"Are you ill or injured?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked over at her.

"I've had this headache all morning. It'll just take a hypospray from Phlox to get rid of it. I'd rather not be crawling around a strange warp engine with the distraction."

She nodded, and she hit the controls on the lift so it would stop at the ship's sickbay. Now she knew the source of her own headache.

"Phlox has settled in well," she said, "and claims the Romulan medical database is fascinating."

"No doubt he's learned new ways of torturing humanoids from those bastards," said Tucker.

T'Pol was silent, remembering that thanks to her, Tucker's knowledge of Phlox's fondness for torture was not abstract.

****

Two hours later, Phlox summoned T'Pol to sickbay without giving her an explanation. Cutler greeted her at the door, and Phlox was in the corner examining some images on a screen.

"Good afternoon, Captain," said Phlox cheerfully, "I'll be right with you."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at being told to wait, but she reminded herself that the doctor was one of the few people on the ship had little authority over. She turned her attention to Cutler.

"It's agreeable to see you well, Crewman. . .It's agreeable to see you well, Ms. Cutler. I am gratified that you have decided to continue your duties as Phlox's assistant. No doubt your presence will make sickbay both more efficient and more pleasant."

Liz smiled her, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I was going stir crazy in the brig. I'm just happy to be busy," she said.

T'Pol searched the woman's face. Phlox had announced to everyone who would listen that Liz was his concubine, and that she shared his quarters. Given the longstanding rumors of Cutler's affection for Phlox and her interactions with him in the brig, T'Pol had assumed the relationship was consensual. Yet, Cutler's personality seemed to have changed. She was no longer as emotive as she had been. T'Pol made a mental note to speak with the woman alone about her situation.

"Come this way, Captain," said Phlox.

T'Pol walked over to the small lab enclave where Phlox sat, out of earshot of Cutler. He lit a screen, and it revealed a brain scan that T'Pol recognized as human.

"I took this scan of Tucker's brain this afternoon," said Phlox.

"Why are you showing me?" asked TPol, feeling as though she was violating Tucker's privacy.

"It seems that your recent meld with him had unexpected consequences. See these dark lines at the edge of his neural pathways."

T'Pol nodded.

"They are signs of early degradation caused by a botched mind meld. In Vulcans, the condition is known as Pa'naar Syndrome. It manifests differently in humans, worse in fact. If he's not cured, Tucker will go blind within a matter of weeks and his brain will cease to function in a matter of months. You did quite a number on him."

T'Pol showed no emotion. She rarely engaged in the practice of melding, and clearly she had made some mistakes during the process.

"The good news is that another meld, with his consent, should cure him. I wanted to tell you first, Captain. That way when I inform him, you can perform the cure immediately."

T'Pol nodded. She wasn't sure she wanted to perform such an intimate act on Tucker. She wondered if T'Les, who was far more skilled at melding than she, would agree to perform the cure.

"When will you tell him?" asked T'Pol.

"He's coming back when he finishes in engineering," said Phlox.

T'Pol nodded.

"Inform him of his situation. Let me know when he is ready for treatment," she said, turning on her heels and leaving sickbay.

***

T'Pol dined with her mother in the ship's ready room. Mostly they ate in silence, but she had told her mother of Tucker's medical issue. T'Les had agreed to perform a therapeutic meld if Tucker was uncomfortable with T'Pol doing it. T'Pol thought it fair to give Tucker a choice.

"If you perform the meld," said T'Les, "I can assist you to make certain no more mistakes happen. Although, you shouldn't be ashamed of Tucker's illness. It's highly difficult to force a meld on anyone without doing serious damage. Only the most skilled and practiced of Syrannites can do it."

T'Pol found herself wishing her mother had informed her of that fact during their long ago lessons. After the steward cleared their plates and brought them tea, T'Les spoke again.

"Something is troubling you, T'Pol. You're emotions have always been worryingly close to the surface, but they've been more so in the last few days."

T'Pol sipped her tea.

"You haven't seen me in years," she replied, "Living among humans has clearly affected my control."

T'Les sipped her tea.

"I thought that was the explanation at first, but I believe I've identified a curious pattern in your emotional lapses. Every time you interact with Commander Tucker, you become unsettled. Every time anyone mentions his name, your face displays telltale signs of reaction."

T'Pol finished her tea, hot though it was. She poured another cup.

"I told you. I caused him harm during my attempt to retake _Enterprise_ from Archer. He suffered and continues to suffer due to my actions."

T'Les poured herself another cup.

"Guilt is illogical. You said yourself Tucker supported Archer's conspiracy against Forrest as well as Archer's later attempt to seize power. He is fortunate that he still lives, and even more so that you wish to cure him of the damage you did. You merely did your duty. He is responsible for the choices he made."

T'Pol said nothing. She looked down at her hands, feeling her mother's eyes on her as she did so. T'Les was an astute woman and a Syrranite. It was difficult to hide anything from her.

"Daughter, may I ask how you managed to get close enough to him to meld with him without any other crew member witnessing your action?"

T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"I lured him with the promise of a sexual encounter. We were alone in my quarters when I melded with him."

T'Les put down her cup.

"And he did not find it unusual that a Vulcan made such an offer?"

T'Pol closed her eyes, knowing exactly what her mother was implying. She took a deep breath. She had wanted to speak to her mother about this issue so it would be illogical to evade her mother's queries. Still staring down at her hands, she told the story of the bacterial infection that had triggered her blood fever and her liaison with Tucker. Her voice nearly broke when she described her first meld with Tucker and what it possibly meant.

"I didn't think it was possible. That's why I chose him over one of the Vulcans," she whispered.

T'Les reached over and took her daughter's hand. T'Pol suddenly felt herself awash in serenity. Her mother spoke kindly.

"I've never heard of a matebond forming with a human, but that doesn't mean it's impossible, T'Pol."

"It was not my intent," she replied quietly.

"The plak tow clouds the mind. It isn't logical. You were acting on instinct."

"I chose a human because I didn't wish to be bonded with anyone."

T'Les squeezed her daughter's hand.

"Sometimes we suppress our true desires along with our emotions. Matebonds don't form unless both parties are open to it," she said, "You obviously chose Tucker for reasons beyond the ones you've stated. You were drawn to him, and evidently he was drawn to you."

T'Pol's lip quivered.

"He always treated me fairly, no different from the human officers. He respected my opinions. He listened to me."

T'Les sighed, still gripping T'Pol's hand.

"I owe you an apology, Daughter. I should have found you another mate after Koss died, despite your protests. Whatever you may believe, we aren't like humans. It's not in our nature to be alone."

T'Pol nodded.

"There is a positive side to his illness," said T'Les, "When you meld with him, you'll be able to see for certain if the bond exists and how strong it has become."

"Wouldn't it be more appropriate under the circumstances if you performed the meld? You are more skilled, and he has no anger toward you."

T'Les dropped her daughter's hand.

"On the contrary, he is _your_ mate. It's your duty to heal him," said T'Les.

"He'll want the bond severed," said T'Pol.

"That may not be possible," said T'Les, "his mind is clearly sensitive, and breaking the bond might cause him severe damage. During the meld, you must determine the extent of the bond and how it is affecting his human mind."

T'Pol's heart sank. She was not looking forward to telling Tucker that they were bonded, possibly for life, thanks to her.

"It is illogical to regret, T'Pol," said T'Les, "You must face what you've done. You must tell him about that bond and all that goes with it. Together, you must decide what to do."

T'Pol nodded. The comm beeped. T'Pol leaned over and examined the table console.

"Third button on the left," said T'Les.

T'Pol pressed the button.

"Captain," said Kov's voice, "Mr. Tucker has gotten the warp drive back on line. We should be underway in minutes."

"Thank him for me, Kov," said T'Pol.

There was pause. Vulcans were always surprised at expressions of gratitude.

"He's gone to sickbay, Captain," said Kov, "Something about a headache."

"Understood, T'Pol out," she replied as she cut the connection.

T'Les stood up and headed for the door.

"Come. . .I haven't yet met my son-in-law. This is going to be fascinating."

Feeling more like a schoolgirl than the captain of a warbird, T'Pol followed her mother.

***

Tucker felt rage boiling up in him as he stared at the door of sickbay. T'Pol hadn't just brainwashed him and sent him to the booth, she'd turned his mind into scrambled eggs. According to Phlox, the only thing that could cure his neural deterioration was _another_ mind meld. His heart beat nervously as he comprehended the implications of that. Thanks to T'Pol's little rebellion, there weren't any other Vulcans on _The Defiant_. If she had been executed or if he hadn't been abducted along with her by these rebels, there would have been no one around to cure him. He would have died from this.

He wanted to smash something. He got why she needed to side with Forrest. Archer hated Vulcans. But why did she have to use _him_ to sabotage the ship? Couldn't she have found another patsy? Couldn't she have left him alone?

Deep down, Tucker realized that he was hurt. Even before her ponn far, he'd always kind of liked the Vulcan. She wasn't just gorgeous, she was smart, competent and he'd even noticed a dry wit behind all that logic. She never stared at his scars, and she never treated him like a freak. After her pon farr, he'd thought. . .

_You're fool, Tucker. Vulcans don't have feelings. You were just a logical solution to a problem._ _She used you to cure her blood fever. She used you to sabotage the ship. You're nothing but a tool to her. _

A Vulcan woman, wearing formal robes, strode into sickbay, and T'Pol followed her. Tucker was curious who the woman could be, and then he realized that she must be T'Pol's mother - the one who had arranged her rescue from _The Defiant_. They looked enough alike.

"Commander Charles Tucker III," said the woman, "I am Lady T'Les."

"I wish it I could say it was nice to meet you, lady, but you did kidnap me."

"I prefer to think of it as liberation," replied T'Les, "Dr. Phlox. Ms. Cutler. You may both leave."

Phlox stood up from his chair and wagged a finger at T'Les.

"Nobody orders me out of my own sickbay. . ." Phlox's voice trailed off under a blistering gaze from the older Vulcan woman.

"We'll be just outside, Lady T'Les," said Phlox as he shuffled Cutler toward the door.

T'Les approached the biobed where he was sitting, and T'Pol followed.

"My daughter will be performing a therapeutic mind meld on you in order to cure the neural damage she caused you. I will assist to make sure she does you no further damage and does not violate your autonomy in any way."

Tucker glared at the older woman.

"And why should I trust you to do that?"

T'Les glared right back, and he suddenly believed he could trust this woman. If this Lady T'Les wanted him dead or brainwashed, she didn't seem like she would bother to hide it, and Tucker had no doubt that that this was a woman who could accomplish either of those things with minimal effort. He glanced over at T'Pol, wondering what it must have been like to be raised by such a person.

"I will see you come to no harm, Mr. Tucker" said T'Les softly.

Tucker nodded.

"You must not resist," continued T'Les, "It was your resistance that contributed to the damage. You must open your mind to her."

Tucker looked over to T'Pol, and she gave him a comforting look. He somehow sensed she wanted to help him. It was a strange feeling.

"The procedure should take no more than a few minutes," said T'Les, "Are you comfortable where you are? Or would you like to return to your quarters?"

Tucker looked over at T'Pol.

"Let's get this done," he replied.

T'Pol stepped forward. She glanced over at her mother, who nodded at her. T'Pol lifted her fingers and moved them toward his face, but she did not touch him. She just looked into his eyes. He sensed that she was waiting for his permission.

"Go ahead," he said.

Her fingers were warm on his temples. He closed his eyes and heard her voice.

"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R for language, sex and nudity_

_A/N: I'll probably write an NC-17 version of this and post it over at TriS. Watch for it. _

**Chapter 6**

T'Pol opened her eyes, and she found herself standing on an Earth beach. She inhaled the air, which was humid and salty. There was a light breeze, and she looked out at dark blue water as she stood on brown sand. To her surprise, her feet were bare and the wet sand massaged them. She wore human clothing, a red dress that exposed her legs beneath the knee and had no sleeves. Her midriff was covered.

"What are you doing here?"

She turned around. At first, she didn't recognize the man who stood before her as his face was unscarred and both his blue eyes stared at her. His appearance was pleasing - handsome. He too wore simple human clothes, white pants and patterned shirt, and his feet were also bare.

"T'Pol? What are you doing here?"

She stepped forward, knowing that this was a scene that he had created in his mind. This beach was undoubtedly a place of comfort to him.

"Do you remember being in sickbay? Do you remember the meld?"

He nodded.

"We're in your mind. You created this place because you feel safe here."

Tucker looked around, and he smiled without his usual bitterness.

"This is a beach near my parent's house. It's a part of a retreat for Senators and people like that so it was always kept real clean. I used to jump the fence and come here to swim. There was hardly ever anyone around. . ."

As Tucker looked out at the water, she recalled the beginning of meld that had brought her here. She had first healed the neural damage under her mother's direction. It had taken only moments. Following that, she attempted to discern how strong her bond with Tucker was. The next thing she knew, she was standing on this beach with him. She wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but she knew that Vulcan mates could access each other's white space through the bond. She wondered if this beach was his white space.

"It always seemed like such a waste that those big wigs never seemed to use this place. . .you wanna go for a swim?"

T'Pol gazed out at the sea, thinking of the dangers such a body of water contained, from strong currents to sharks. Vulcans learned to swim as a survival skill, but no Vulcan would dream of entering such a body of water on purpose - even one created in Tucker's mind.

He took her hand and tried to led her toward the water.

"Don't be scared. I'll make sure you don't drown."

"Mr. Tucker . . Charles, do you remember being in sickbay? I've created a mind link between us. I've healed your neural damage."

He smiled at her, and he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You can call me Trip."

She raised an eyebrow, not only at his request but at his suddenly bare, well-formed and unmarred chest. He proceeded to remove his trousers.

"It's a nickname. I'm Charles Tucker the Third. My dad was Charlie. . .so my parents called me Trip. For three. I stopped using the name when I joined Starfleet, but I wouldn't mind you using it when no one's around. . .what's wrong, don't they skinny dip on Vulcan?"

T'Pol shook her head no, and Tucker was grinning playfully at her. She kept her eyes locked with his blue ones so she wouldn't have to look at his naked body.

"Are your cheeks turning green, T'Pol?" he laughed, "It's nothing you haven't seen before. You're familiar with every inch of me."

He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"And in case you've forgotten, I'm familiar with every inch of you."

He ran a gentle finger down the side of her arm. She wasn't sure what to do, but she decided the best course of action was to play along with him. She now knew for certain that they had formed a significant bond. It was also clear he did not comprehend his situation. She hoped if she kept him calm and content, she could more easily explain the truth and help him return to consciousness.

She resolved to swim with him, but she didn't know how the human garment she wore was fastened, and her fingers searched in vain for ties or clasps.

"Lemme do that," he laughed as he turned her around and deftly undid the buttons down her back.

He pushed the now loose dress off her shoulders and it fell to the ground. Tucker's subconscious mind had not bothered to dress her in undergarments, and she was now as naked as he was.

He leaned over and kissed her gently on her shoulder before taking her hand and leading her into the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The water was warm, even soothing. Soon, they stood waist deep.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked.

"It's something like a dream," she said, "We are both deep in your mind, and you are creating this place. You wish us to be here. But unlike a dream, I will remember this because my mind is connected to yours."

He dove into the water and begin to swim toward the horizon.

"That sounds like neat trick," he said, turning around and beckoning her deeper into the water, "C'mon. I'll protect you."

She followed him.

"Mr. Tucker. . .Trip. . .you must listen. You must remember where you were moments ago. Think back. We were in sickbay, and I initiated a mind meld with you."

"Your mama was there," he said, "I remember. Interesting lady."

"Aren't you wondering how we got here?"

She swam toward him and grasped his hand under the water.

***

Suddenly, they stood in her white space looking very much as they both had in sickbay. Tucker attempted to pull his hand away from her, but she held fast.

"Do you remember now?"

"What have you done?"

"I've healed the damage to your brain, and now I'm going to bring you back to full consciousness."

"Where are we?"

"We're in my mind now."

Tucker looked around.

"I always figured your mind would be more interesting than this."

"This is my meditation space. It is where I feel most safe."

"Why am I here? What's this got to do with healing my brain?"

T'Pol took a deep breath. She had to tell him the truth. As simply and as efficiently as she could, she explained that they were bonded.

Tucker glared at her.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I didn't know it had happened. There were signs, but I dismissed them because I did not believe it was possible to bond with a human."

Tucker tried to pull away from her hand, but she gripped him tightly. She sensed he didn't fully comprehend their situation.

"I will bring you back to consciousness, but we must discuss this further."

Tucker nodded, and she let go of his hand.

***

Tucker's eyes flew open, and he saw T'Pol standing before him.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

Tucker didn't answer immediately. He took note of his surroundings and saw Lady T'Les standing behind her daughter.

"My headache's gone," he replied slowly.

T'Les turned toward the door.

"I shall summon Phlox," she said, "You will require another brain scan to make certain the damage to your neural pathways is completely healed."

When they were alone, T'Pol spoke.

"What do you remember?"

He stared at her but did not respond.

"Do you remember being on a beach? One near your parents house?"

Tucker jumped back. He had dreamt of swimming with T'Pol on that beach.

"I was dreaming . . ." he said carefully, as their conversations during the meld started to come back to him. It had been more than a dream. She had said so.

"We must speak about this when Phlox has completed his scans. I will have a guard bring you to my ready room. We can talk privately there," replied T'Pol.

T'Pol's voice was kind and her face serene. He nodded carefully as Phlox and Cutler returned to sickbay with T'Les.

T'Pol turned to her mother.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mother" she said and then she strode out of sickbay.

Phlox began giving him orders, and the next thing he knew was being put into the imaging chamber so the doctor could scan his brain.

Tucker closed his eyes and began to realize something very significant had happened.

***

T'Pol went to the bridge, where the second officer, the Andorian woman Talas, had taken the evening shift. Talas's position on the ship was that of tactical officer, as she was a veteran of the Andorian military.

"Captain," she said, "We've picked up a distress call from an Andorian outpost less than two light years from here. They expect to be hit with Klingon marauders within a day. Only one Andorian ship orbits the colony to protect them. This warbird would tip the balance in their favor."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. Her mother had briefed her on the various agendas of the Syrannite-led rebels. One of their goals was to generate good will between themselves and all the races that might oppose the empire. This seemed like an ideal opportunity to further that goal.

"Set a course," said T'Pol.

"Thank you, Captain," replied Talas.

"Make sure we stay cloaked, but I will want to speak with the Captain of the Andorian ship when we arrive. Also contact the colony and see if you can get any intelligence from them, but do not let them know who we are or that we intend to render aid. We don't want anyone to tip off the Klingons to our presence."

Talas nodded formally.

"Yes, Captain," she said, "Thank you."

"Contact Kov," she said, "Go through the weapons checklist. We'll need to go to a tactical alert if combat seems imminent. During that time, all authorized crew should carry sidearms in case we are boarded during the melee."

Talas nodded.

"Yes, Captain."

T'Pol continued to her ready room.

"I shall await a report of what intelligence you gather."

***

T'Pol sat down on one of the velvety chaises in the her ready room, wondering how the Romulans kept their minds on their tasks while in such comfort. She found herself longing for the utilitarian aesthetic of Starfleet ships.

She accessed some of the schematics of the warbird and she studied them carefully. She was so engrossed that she forgot about her issues with Tucker and the encounters they had had in each other's minds.

She forgot until the private lift into her ready room opened and Tucker strode into the room. She had requested the guard show him to the lift and send him up alone.

"Damn," he said, "The Romulans sure have some strange ideas of what constitutes a ready room."

She gestured for him to sit down on a chair near her chaise. He did so.

"Did Phlox confirm the damage to your neural pathways had healed?"

"Good as new," he said, "I suppose I should thank you."

"I was gratified to be able to fix the damage," she said.

T'Pol took a deep breath.

"We need to speak about the other matter," she said, "The bond between us."

Tucker looked into her eyes and she sensed that he was beginning - but only beginning to understand the significance of their connection. As carefully as she could, she again explained the concept of a matebond to him and all that it meant - from their ability to sense each others thoughts to their ability to communicate telepathically to the trauma that would occur if one of them died. She explained that his dreams about her over the past year had been a side-effect of the bond, and that she had shared many of those dreams. After she finished, he was quiet for a long time.

"So, how do we get rid of it?" You gonna have to meld with me again?"

T'Pol closed her eyes. She was acutely aware of his physical proximity to her. Images of their swim together flitted through her mind.

"Matebonds have only rarely been severed. It is dangerous under any circumstances. My mother believes that the process could be fatal to a human."

Tucker grabbed her arm.

"What?"

"My mother knows several master Syrranites that might be able to sever the bond without killing you, but it would be risky. It must be your choice."

He stared at her coldly.

"And what happens if it can't be severed?"

"In the Vulcan tradition, we are mated for life."

Tucker rolled his eyes.

"You mean like married?"

"The word for mate is also the word for husband or wife in Vulcan. There is no difference. In both Vulcan law and tradition, the bond is a marriage. Any ceremony is just a formality."

He stood up and walked to the window and looked out at the stars. She tried to sense what he was feeling, but she guessed it might be shock or numbness, since she felt nothing.

"I apologize. A bond has never been known to form with a human. I did not know it was possible. I only discovered that one might exist when I forced the melds on you. . ."

"Where are these master Syrannites?"

"On Vulcan's sister planet. We are taking my mother there."

Tucker nodded.

"We will be stopping to render aid to an Andorian colony before proceeding to the Vulcan system. The Vulcan system is only days away."

Tucker nodded again. T'Pol opened a drawer took out a small data chip. She stood up and joined him at the window, holding out the chip.

"This contains the access number for you account. The credits have already been transferred."

Tucker reached for the data chip. She expected him to simply take it, but instead their hands entwined around the chip. T'Pol wasn't sure if she initiated the gesture or he did. It seemed that they moved to join hands simultaneously.

The bond ignited between them, and he pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth with his. Her mouth opened to the invasion of his tongue, and she felt his strong arms around her waist and heard the data chip fall to the floor. Their minds joined together, and a mixture of lust, affection, anger and gratitude coursed through her mind. She desperately tried to cling to logic and reason under twin assaults from his body and mind. His unchecked emotions rushed into her mind, and she knew the bond had overwhelmed him as it surely as it was overwhelming her.

"Mr. Tucker," she whispered in between kisses, "This is an unwise course of action. Physical contact between us will only strengthen the bond."

She sensed a small bit of resistance in his mind at her words, but desire soon overpowered it.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered into her ear.

T'Pol shook her head. She couldn't lie to her mate, nor could she refuse him.

No more words were necessary as they disrobed each other. As he pushed her to the floor, she understood that he was taking possession of her and there would be no looking back.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Rating: R for sex and violence.

A/N: An NC-17 version of the sexual encounter described here exists and will be posted at TriS eventually. But know this, Tucker completely dominates T'Pol and makes it clear just how pissed off he still is at her for the whole mind rape and torture thing.

**Chapter Seven**

After a long while, their breathing seemed to be in synch as he pulled her gently into the spoon position. He lightly caressed her pointed ear with his tongue.

"You can't lie anymore, T'Pol. Thanks to this freak Vulcan bond, I know that you're mine. You belong to me. I think that's fair payment for what you did to me."

She lay very still in his arms, ashamed by how easily she had submitted to everything he had done to her. He had certainly learned quickly how to use the bond to his advantage, making it clear how furious he still was about all that she had done to him while simultaneously overwhelming her with desire. She had always taken pride in the fact that she was not a slave to the Terran Empire, but she had inadvertently become a slave to one single Terran.

But she also sensed he did not fully understand what the consequences of their intense encounter would be.

"You are correct, Mr. Tucker. I belong to you. But remember, the bond flows two ways. You also belong to me."

He didn't answer, but when she moved to get up, he held her firmly.

"Within twenty-four hours, this ship will likely engage Klingons in combat," she said, "I must consult with the senior officers."

She paused for a moment, and she felt his arms loosen. She sat up.

"May I get dressed?" she asked.

He nodded and sat up with her. They gathered up their clothes and redressed in silence. Finally, she spoke.

"Klingons have shuttles designed to puncture hulls so they can board a ship. It is unlikely they would choose to board a warbird, but I will see you are given a phase pistol if we engage them."

He looked at her.

"You trust me with a sidearm?"

"You are not a prisoner," she said, "and I do not wish you to be defenseless should the Klingons board."

He nodded.

"It's late," she said, "You need more sleep than me. You should rest. I would like you to assist in engineering as we prepare for battle."

"All right."

"I will tell Kov to cede to your superior experience, but you must respect that he is more familiar with these systems than you."

Tucker nodded and headed for the lift. He smacked her lightly on the behind as he passed her.

"I'll see you later," he said.

***

Talas strode confidently into the quarters where the human Reed was being held. She found him sitting at a table reading a PADD that he had been given. The cabin was immaculate, not a spare item visible or a wrinkle in the bed. Reed wore his MACO uniform, which Talas knew he had sent to be cleaned several times.

"Good Afternoon, Major Reed. I'm Talas. I'm in charge of of tactical and security on this ship."

"Am I being released?"

"Not yet. The ship has entered orbit around an Andorian colony and remains cloaked. Klingon marauders are expected to attack within hours, and we have agreed to render aid to the colony."

Reed didn't reply.

"Captain T'Pol says you've had experience engaging Klingons," said Talas.

"I have."

Talas thought she saw a hint of a smile at the corner of Reed's mouth. Captain T'Pol had told her that Reed had fought in several ground battles against Klingons, including one where he had personally killed the Klingon commanding officer with the man's own bat'leth despite the Klingon being a far larger man than Reed. The story had caused Talas's antennae to vibrate just slightly.

"Then you know that the Klingons will care little that you are here against your will, should they manage to board."

Reed nodded.

"Captain T'Pol has asked me to ask you if you would be willing to help engage them. I can authorize your guard to see that you are armed should the Klingons board us."

Reed smiled, but he didn't respond.

Talas strode close to Reed and knelt down next to him in a way that she knew would give him a good look at her blue cleavage.

"I know that you were a prisoner when we . . .took you. You don't owe the new Empress anything."

Reed was still quiet but took her invitation to look down her shirt.

"We're going to release you. You're not a prisoner. Enemies of the Empress are generally friends of ours. Unless they're Klingons, of course."

For a moment, Talas thought that Reed might make a move toward her sidearm, and weirdly she found herself hoping that he would. She relished the thought of physically engaging him - in any way.

"I need civilian clothes," said Reed, "I don't want the Klingons to recognize who I am. The element of surprise should be helpful."

"You'll have them," whispered Talas, "Anything else?"

Reed shook his head no.

"You can communicate with me through the comm. Again, I"m Talas."

She stood up and backed towards the door. She knew better than to turn her back on this man, but she did wink at him as she exited. His face remained unreadable.

***

T'Pol summoned her first officer to her ready room. She needed to go over several tactical scenarios with him. The man entered her ready room through the bridge. He was called Tolaris, and he had been a professor of literature before joining up with the rebels. T'Les had assured her that he had become a highly competent rebel operative and his organizational skills had been a great boon to her.

He was tall and well-formed, and his features were agreeable. Before learning that T'Pol had bonded with Tucker, T'Les had several times praised this man and mentioned once that his wife had been killed in an attack on an outpost.

Looking at the man, T'Pol found herself strangely grateful that she was bonded with the human. She wasn't sure why, but she was disquieted by the idea of becoming personally involved with him. Nevertheless, he had been very helpful to her during her short tenure as captain. Her mother was correct. He was an adept at managing the various aliens aboard and knew the ship's organization well.

"I'll want you to listen in on the conference with the Andorian Captain," she said, "In case you are required to take command during the battle."

"Yes, Captain."

"Dismissed," she said.

Tolaris raised his eyebrow at her, and then turned on his heel and left.

***

It hadn't taken long for the Klingon warbird to destroy the Andorian vessel, which had been in disrepair with primitive weapons systems. T'Pol had done her best to defend the ship, but the Andorian Captain had told her that the priority was the safety of the colonists.

T'Pol had been aggressive in attacking the warbird with her superior Romulan weapons. Already damaged from the Andorian vessel's suicidal fight, T'Pol had targeted the Klingon warp drive and destroyed the warbird.

Unfortunately, the warbird had launched three invasion shuttles before its destruction. T'Pol was able to target and destroy two of them in rapid succession, but the third one had situated itself in a weapons "blind spot" that must have been well-known to the Klingons given their ship was of similar design.

"They're going to try and board," said Talas, "No doubt they intend to take as many of us with them to Sto-vo-kor as they can."

"Understood," said T'Pol, "Send tactical teams to decks A, B and C on the starboard side. Alert the team that's already in engineering to stand their ground. The warp drive must be protected. All weapons should be set to kill."

T'Pol knew well the folly of leaving any Klingons alive to tell tales. They would make it their mission to avenge her crew's victory and wouldn't relent until they had done so.

"Yes, Captain," said Talas, "Permission to join my team."

"Granted," said T'Pol.

Talas ran from the bridge.

"Tolaris," she said, "Keep monitoring the sensors. Alert Talas to the position of any intruders."

"Understood," he replied smoothly.

T'Pol then proceeded to announce to the ship of the Klingon's imminent arrival. The unlikely had suddenly become inevitable.

***

Reed's guard had strode into his quarters and without a word tossed him a weapon. Reed took a moment and admired the elegant pistol, which he recognized as a disruptor of Romulan design. He had never fired such a weapon, but he was confident he could figure out the weapon's quirks once the action began.

Reed had been bored out of his mind over the last few days, and he had suddenly given an opportunity to kill some Klingons. He wasn't going to let the opportunity pass.

He followed the guard, who shouted to him that the breach was 400 meters down the hall.

"Wait," said Reed.

The young Vulcan guard stopped in his tracks, near the lift that had brought him to his confinement.

"Doesn't this lift lead to Engineering?"

The guard nodded.

"At least some of the Klingons will be coming this way. If we take a position behind the bulkhead, we'll be able to pick them off as they wait for the lift."

The young Vulcan nodded and took a position with Reed. After about four minutes, Reed could hear hulking footsteps coming down the corridor.

As two Klingons stopped at the lift, Reed aimed and fired. It wasn't a direct hit, as he wasn't trained on his weapon, but the Klingon disintegrated just the same. The young Vulcan targeted the other Klingon, and he soon joined his comrade.

"Those shuttles can carry no more than eight Klingons," said Reed, "There's no more than six of them left."

The young Vulcan nodded.

"Well," sneered Reed, "Are you going to help me kill them or stand there useless?"

The Vulcan followed Reed down the hall.

***

Talas was standing at the doorway that had been cut into the warbird by the Klingon shuttle. It was brilliant technology, but this section of the ship needed to be sealed off in case the hull had been destabilized. Her communicator chirped.

"Talas here."

"Sensors show no more Klingons," said Tolaris.

Talas sighed with relief. The C deck team had killed three Klingons as they boarded. She and her team had engaged and killed three more. She did not know who had killed the other two. She set her communicator to access all members of her tactical team."

"Ma'am," said the young Vulcan who had been guarding Reed, "I killed one and the human Reed killed the other. But there's a problem. He's disappeared."

Talas smiled and proceeded to contact Tolaris. His sensors would be able to locate Reed. There were only two human males on the ship, so it wouldn't be hard.

***

Liz Cutler was treating a young Tellarite man's broken arm, when Reed strode into sickbay. To her shock, he held a weapon.

"Major Reed?" she said.

"Seen any Klingons?" asked Reed.

"They're all dead. Commander Tucker is helping repair the hull breach," said Liz, who was terrified at the sight of Reed with a weapon, no matter if he had no reason to use it on her.

Phlox stepped out of his lab area.

"Can I help you, Major Reed?"

Reed looked around, and he put his pistol in its holster. He said nothing, but Liz knew he was thinking hard about his situation.

"I understand we owe you thanks," said Phlox, "There was a ship's announcement saying that you killed one of the Klingons. The guards looking for you were told to thank you as they returned you to your quarters."

Liz had been looking at Phlox, and when she turned she saw Reed collapse on the floor. Lady T'Les stood behind him, having delivered a nerve pinch. She took the disruptor and tucked it in her robe.

"Dr. Phlox," said T'Les, "Please examine our guest for any injuries. I understand we owe him our gratitude."

***

It was no longer late but early morning when T'Pol returned to her quarters. She hadn't slept in 36 hours, and despite her Vulcan stamina, exhaustion had overtaken her. The battle had been over for about ten hours, and the hull breach, thanks to Mr. Tucker's expertise, had been patched in excellent time. Tucker didn't yet feel comfortable certifying that they could go to warp, as he had more tests that he wanted to perform, but he expected they could be on their way within a day.

She immediately went into the bathroom and drew herself a bath. She had been too busy to take a break in the run up to the engagement with the Klingons, so the scents of battle had layered on top of the scents of her sexual encounter with Tucker, and she was eager to rid her body of both. She returned to the main room and began to strip off her clothes. She threw them into the laundry bin and turned around.

She had set the lights in her bedroom to dim, but she was startled to see a figure lying in her bed. She recognized Tucker.

"Glad you're home, Honey"

T'Pol mouth dropped open.

"You seem surprised," he said, "but don't worry. I took my boots off before walking on the silk rugs. That's customary right?"

T'Pol nodded.

"How did you. . ."

"Oh. . .Mama T'Les gave me full access to this room. She came down to engineering to check on our progress. She found time to ask me what I planned to do about this bond business, and I said I had no intention of ridding myself of it. She seemed rather tickled, if you ask me, and she showed me right here. Thankfully, I don't have much stuff. . .the steward brought everything up from the lower decks in one trip."

T'Pol was silent.

"Don't mind me, darlin'" he said, "I know you want to get to that bath. I already showered earlier."

T'Pol felt a strong desire to argue with him, to throw him out of her quarters. But doing so would create great controversy with her Vulcan crew. Some of them might be offended by her bonding with a human, but _all_ of them would object to her barring her bondmate from her quarters, an act which would be a outright violation of sacred Vulcan tradition. It was certainly clear to T'Pol that her mother viewed the bond as more important than Tucker's unfortunate species. And T'Les had found a rather irritating way of articulating that opinion.

She resolved to meditate on the situation further after she had gotten some sleep. She headed into the bathroom and lowered herself into the tub. The water was warm, inviting and soothed her body.

Tucker soon appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing the t-shirt and boxers in which he slept.

"Can I wash your back, darlin'?"

She nodded. He took a washcloth and began to tend to her. T'Pol steeled herself for another sexual encounter, but he didn't touch her that way.

"Thank you for assisting us with the hull breach," she said after awhile.

"Thanks for getting us through the battle in one piece," he replied.

When the water was tepid, he lifted her from the tub and dried her off.

"What do you sleep in?

"There's a nightshirt in the top right drawer."

The garment was simple and white. Tucker dressed her in it and led her to the bed.

"Do you have a favorite side of the bed?"

"I prefer to be near the door as opposed to the window."

"Perfect," he replied, "I like being near the window."

He led her to the bed and helped her slip under the covers.

"Can I bring you anything, Captain?" he asked.

She shook her head.

Tucker walked around the bed and climbed in next to her. He pressed a button on the nightstand and the lights went out.

"Get some sleep, T'Pol," he said.

She closed her eyes, grateful that she was too exhausted to care who shared her bed.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R for sex and violence_**. **

**Chapter 8**

T'Pol had retreated to the safety of her white space. There the stresses that came from her position as captain and her relationship with Tucker dissipated. She spent nearly an hour there, preparing herself for her duties in command of the warbird.

She opened her eyes. After sleeping for nearly five hours, she had quietly dressed and was sitting cross-legged before a candle. She inhaled the air of her quarters, acutely aware of the human scent emanating from her bed.

T'Les had sent her a clear message by giving Tucker access to her quarters. Her mother expected her to honor the bond that had formed between her and Tucker, no matter how inadvertent it had been.

Although she found the notion of residing with Tucker very disagreeable, T'Pol recognized that she was in no position to eject him from her quarters. Especially now that he was aware of the bond and had no apparent desire to have it severed.

She also recognized that Tucker understood little of the profound connection that now existed between them. He seemed to think of it as tool with which to humiliate and control her. She had no doubt, however, that he'd soon realize that the bond made him as vulnerable as it has made her. She wondered bitterly how he would react when he began to understand this fact.

She also wondered if Tucker wished to stay on _The Selok _or would force her to leave with him. He had been eager to leave before learning about the bond. Whatever the case, they needed to stay together. Vulcan couples could eventually develop enough discipline and control to be separated for long periods of time, but Vulcans were only required to mate every seven years. It seemed to T'Pol that human males were afflicted with their version blood fever several times a week, if not more. She felt her cheeks get warm as she realized Tucker would expect her to satisfy that fever.

"Good morning," he said, sitting up and putting his feet on the floor.

"Good morning," she replied, "I am going to check in with the bridge."

"Go right ahead," he said.

She walked to the comm and spoke with Tolaris about multiple ship issues. They were still waiting for clearance from Tucker before going to warp and heading to Vulcan. If Tolaris knew the location of Tucker's new quarters, he didn't say anything.

Meanwhile, Tucker showered and dressed.

"You are required in engineering. Kov wishes you to supervise the tests you ordered."

Tucker stood up.

"Call down and tell him I'll be there in twenty minutes. I'm going to stop at the mess and grab breakfast."

T'Pol suppressed a jolt of anger. He may have held dominion over their personal life, but she was still the captain of this vessel. Her thoughts made this point crystal clear.

"Okay, okay," he said chuckling, "I get it. You're the captain."

He strode to the comm and spoke with Kov. Then, he strode over to where she sat and folded his arms.

"So, you're the boss during the day and I'm the boss at night. Sounds like a reasonable arrangement."

"We must speak further about. . .the situation between us."

"Agreed," he said, heading to the door, "The first order of business will be to get you something prettier to sleep in."

"Mr. Tucker. . ."

"And call me Charles while we are alone. We're _married_."

She briefly recalled the moment in his mind when he had asked her to use his childhood nickname. She also remembered how different he had been in that vision.

"Charles," she said, "there are serious matters to discuss. I don't believe you fully comprehend what has happened, and it is unknown how the bond will effect a human."

"Your mama told me that. She's offered to work with us to figure all that out. Permission to leave, Captain?"

He was mocking her, but she nodded and he left their quarters. She took a moment to enjoy the solitude before heading to the bridge.

***

Tucker whistled to himself as he headed for the ship's mess hall. T'Pol was right, he didn't fully understand this bizarre Vulcan bond, but he _had_ had a taste of what he could do to her with it. Whatever the consequences to himself would be more than worth it.

He couldn't believe how much his life had changed for the better. He had been wishing for some way to get back at T'Pol for months, and it was as if a genie had appeared and granted that wish. Last week, he had been looking at spending the rest of his life as a prisoner, doing Sato's bidding. Now, he was a free man, serving on a sleek warbird and had T'Pol back in his bed and pretty much at his mercy. He couldn't have dreamed up a better scenario. _Her own mother_ had promised to help him keep her in line.

The next item on his agenda was to get control of engineering. The Vulcan Kov was a sweet enough kid, but he was way out of his depth. This ship needed Tucker's skills, and it had the added bonus of a warp drive that wasn't dosing him with delta radiation on a daily basis.

He had never considered joining up with the rebellion, but just the thought of Empress Sato was enough to make him rethink his loyalty to the Empire. He'd been lucky to survive the intrigues between Forrest and Archer, and even luckier to survive Sato's power grab. And since he wasn't at all confident Empress Sato was going to be able to keep her throne, Tucker thought it just as well he had found himself far away from the seat of imperial power.

The one thing that concerned him was the notion of coming up against _The Defiant_. _The Selok _could certainly match any contemporary ship, but it wouldn't have a chance against _The Defiant_. He was sure T'Pol understood this as well, and he didn't doubt she would make certain that they steered clear.

***

Tolaris and T'Pol sat in her ready room discussing ship's business. They had gone over several mundane matters, when Tolaris raised his eyebrow at her.

"I've had a report that the human, Charles Tucker, has been reassigned to your quarters. The explanation given for this was that he is your mate. Is this true?

T'Pol's face showed no reaction.

"Yes," she said.

"I was unaware that a bond could form with a human," said Tolaris.

T'Pol looked him straight in the eye.

"It is possible," she replied.

Tolaris did not respond and moved on to the next item that was on his checklist.

***

T'Pol looked up as the doors to her ready room opened, and Liz Culter walked tentatively into the room. She had taken to wearing simple Vulcan robes, and she looked tired.

"Hello. . .Captain," she said.

"Good Afternoon, Ms. Cutler," she said.

"This is some ready room," she said.

"It is of Romulan design," said T'Pol, gesturing for her to sit.

Liz did so gingerly on one of the red velvet chairs.

"Would you care for tea?"

"Yes, please," she replied.

T'Pol poured them each a cup, and then sat back.

"Do you find your current quarters agreeable? Or would you prefer to be moved to quarters on your own?"

Liz tried to stutter a reply, but she couldn't seem to manage one. T'Pol observed her with great empathy.

"You are under no obligation to continue to reside with Phlox. You may consider yourself under my protection. I will even assign you other duties on the ship, if you prefer. And you are free to leave us at anytime."

Tears filled Liz's eyes.

"You know I can't go back to Earth. I wouldn't have anywhere to go."

T'Pol nodded. Liz would be a pariah if she returned to the Empire.

"You are welcome aboard this ship," said T'Pol, "where ever you choose to reside. I can also speak to my mother about finding you sanctuary on Vulcan. There are several Syrannite monasteries that would welcome you, human or not."

Liz sighed.

"Phlox will be angry."

"He will recover," replied T'Pol.

"You know," Liz said slowly, "I would like my own quarters. Phlox doesn't sleep and that's been really difficult."

T'Pol nodded.

"I will alert Tolaris of your request. He will escort you to Phlox's quarters so you may retrieve your things."

"Thank you, Captain," replied Liz softy, "and I'll think about. . .whether I want to stay or go."

***

T'Pol had her midday meal in her ready room, and T'Les joined her. They both wished to spend as much time as they could with one another as T'Les would be leaving the ship to rejoin T'Pau's council in mere days.

"How is Mr. Tucker adjusting to his new living arrangements?" asked T'Les, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

T'Pol glared at her mother.

"You should have consulted me before giving him access to my quarters."

T'Les sipped on a glass of Romulan Ale that she was enjoying with her lunch.

"You know well that he has a right to reside with you. My actions should not have surprised you. And you did not answer my question, how is he adjusting?"

"It's been only hours, but he finds the new situation to his liking."

"I don't doubt that. I sensed outright glee in him during our conversation. It might be difficult for you to withstand his emotions. You should add to your meditation schedule."

T'Pol nodded, and T'Les leaned over and caressed her cheek.

"He will undoubtedly want to engage in sexual relations more often than a Vulcan mate would," said T'Les, "You must not resist him. The bond evolved in order to encourage procreation in our species and attempting to suppress it will do neural damage to both of you. For this reason, you must continue to reside together."

"I know," whispered T'Pol. After a moment, she spoke again, "I thought he would wish to sever the bond."

"That was an illogical assumption," she said, "since he's obviously in love with you."

"That's not possible. He has not forgiven me for the forced meld."

"For someone who has spent so many years among humans, you don't understand them very well. His being in love with you fuels his anger, but he will eventually forgive you."

T'Pol wasn't at all certain of this, but she chose not argue with her mother.

***

T'Pol had gotten word that Reed wanted to see her. She thought it best to see him in his quarters, where he was still under guard. She found him standing at his window. She greeted him formally and asked him if he was being well-treated.

"I am," replied Reed.

T'Pol felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She had known Reed many years and knew his politeness masked cold brutality. She found his continued presence on her ship disagreeable.

"I have request," he said, "I don't wish to be released in Vulcan or Andorian territory. I understand our next destination is Vulcan's sister planet."

"That is correct," she said, "but after that, we will be heading to independent space. We shall drop you any place you feel is safe."

_Assuming I believe you will not pose a threat to the local population_, she added in her mind.

"I appreciate that," he said.

"Within reason," said T'Pol, "you may ask the guards to bring you anything that will make you more comfortable."

With that, T'Pol exited carefully, looking forward to having Reed gone.

***

Having left Talas in charge on the bridge, T'Pol returned to her quarters. It was late, but she knew immediately that Tucker had not yet returned from engineering. This didn't surprise her. Even on _Enterprise_, his penchant for working long hours was well known.

She quickly showered, changed for bed and began her nightly meditation. Now that the bond between her and Tucker was fully formed, she had been bombarded by his emotions at points during the day. He was clearly enjoying his work in engineering, and various highs and lows had pulsed through her mind.

She added thirty minutes to her meditation to help her control these unfamiliar sensations. She also decided to send some of this serenity toward Tucker, hoping he'd be in an agreeable frame of mind when he returned.

Soon, she was aware of his presence in the room, but she did not come out of her meditative state. She stayed in the comfort of her white space for another fifteen minutes before opening her eyes.

She stood up to see him lying on the bed, unclothed. He beckoned her toward him. Although her mind resisted, her body quivered with excitement. She took a deep breath and suppressed her resistance. T'Les's words echoed in her mind.

She stood up and walked toward the bed.

"Take that off," he said, gesturing to her nightdress.

She pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the floor, revealing her nude body. He pulled her down onto the bed with him, flipping her on her back next to him. His mouth covered hers, and she let herself be swept away.

***

Tucker stared up and the ceiling of his new quarters, trying to separate the threads of euphoria in his mind. He wasn't sure which were his and which were T'Pol's. He didn't need to look over at her. He knew she was next to him, methodically recovering her Vulcan control.

Her attraction to him apparently threatened her precious Vulcan dignity. Yet, she had certainly enjoyed herself. Three times by his count.

He snorted. The situation was weird, but she'd have to get used to it. He wasn't going anywhere.

He moved to get up and winced in pain. The friction of his body against the silk sheets had aggravated his burns.

"You're in pain," she whispered.

He sat up.

"Yeah," he said, "I might go see Phlox for a pain shot."

"That may not be necessary," she said, sitting up, "Turn over onto your stomach."

To his surprise, he did as she asked without question.

"Vulcans believe our bodies should be encouraged to make our own medicine. I can apply pressure to your neural nodes that will release endorphins that will fight the pain. . .do your old wounds often hurt you?"

"Yeah. . .yeah, they do," he whispered.

He closed his eyes. He hadn't had a day without pain since the accident. Some days were worse than others, but it was always there. She was pressing gently beneath each of his vertebrae.

"Relax," she said, "I will instruct you in proper breathing for optimal results."

He briefly thought of resisting her, but he found himself obeying all her instructions and gradually the pain receded.

"Thanks," he said when she got up and began to prepare for bed.

"You pain is my pain," she replied, "and its my duty to alleviate it any way I can."

She moved to put on the nightdress that he hated. He stood up and took it from her hands.

"I want you to sleep naked."

She didn't protest as he dropped the garment in the laundry chute. As he started to wash up, he felt sleepy. Almost drunk. She approached him.

"Come," she said, "Let me help you."

In his haze, he focused on how warm her hands were and how he good he felt.

"You're being real nice," he whispered as she led him back to their bed.

Sleep overtook him before he had another conscious thought.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R_

_A/N: The Vulcans seem pretty integrated into the Terran Empire in "Mirror, Mirror" - so there's some movement toward that in this story. I've seen that done in other MU fics, so its not an original idea. It's still a good one, though._

**Chapter 9**

T'Pol stood at the expansive window of her ready room, watching the blur of stars whirr past. She sipped her morning tea and pondered the intelligence reports she had read. Against all odds, it appeared the Empress Sato had solidified and consolidated power. Hundreds of Terrans had disappeared, including any official that might threaten Sato's power.

The lift door opened, and she turned to see Phlox striding purposefully into the room.

"Good morning, doctor," she said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"You should have expected me since you gave Liz her own quarters," he spat.

"Liz is a free individual," replied T'Pol, "She is not required to reside with you."

Phlox paced the room, gesturing wildly.

"Your mother promised me concubines in payment for my services on this ship. I chose her as one of them."

"And you _had_ her for a number of days. However, she found the arrangement disagreeable. So you may now find a replacement."

"You didn't give her time to adjust! She's a human, of course she's not accustomed to suddenly being on the bottom rung of the social ladder. I was just beginning to break her in."

T'Pol put her cup down.

"She has chosen to end the arrangement. I have no authority to force her to reside with you."

Phlox stopped pacing and folded his arms.

"Do you have any idea what happens to most Terran women who are exiled from the Empire? Being under my protection will be far more pleasant than what awaits her in the outer colonies. I treated her well. . .I enjoyed her company as well as her body."

T'Pol sat down.

"As you know, there are several Orions on the ship. You are free to discuss obtaining a concubine from them. They know of brokers who can find you a woman who has chosen that way of life. You'll find these women well-schooled in the arts of pleasure, and they will reside with you willingly."

Phlox looked at her.

"I'll need at least two to make up for the loss of Liz," he said.

"I'll see to it that you have the credits to pay for _two_ women," said T'Pol.

"Will Liz be leaving the ship?" asked Phlox.

"She has not decided. She'll be working in the hydroponic garden in the meantime. She has graciously offered to assist you in sickbay should a crisis occur. She doesn't wish anyone to go without medical treatment because of awkwardness between the two of you."

Phlox sat down, and T'Pol thought he might be pouting.

"That _is_ gracious of her," he said, "and perhaps if we're on more equal footing, she'll rethink things. She always did have a crush on me."

T'Pol leaned over.

"If she complains you've touched her against her will, I'll have you thrown out the airlock."

An peculiar silence hung in the air.

"Understood, Captain," said Phlox, "The Terrans have a phrase. . .there are plenty of fish in the sea."

T'Pol pondered the metaphor for a moment. Even after years among humans, she found their penchant for metaphor peculiar.

"Good luck reeling in some fish that are to your liking, Doctor," she replied.

***

Tucker was nervous and not in a good way. He had gotten a message that Malcolm Reed wanted to see him, and he had decided to go. He had never liked Reed, and he certainly didn't trust him. Tucker knew T'Pol felt the same, but she felt it best to release him in the outer colonies rather than in Vulcan or Andorian space. She was probably right, but he wanted Reed off the ship, a ship he had come to view as _his_ ship.

He passed the two guards outside Reed's door and walked through the door, determined that Reed wouldn't sense any fear him. Animals like Reed could smell fear.

"Hello, Reed," he said.

"Ah," said Reed, "Good afternoon, Mr. Tucker. I've just been looking over some of the intelligence T'Pol's people obtained. She was kind enough to share some of the more interesting points with me."

Tucker wasn't surprised by this. The report in question had information that was of interest to both Reed and himself. T'Pol had shown it to him that morning and told him of her intention to give a redacted copy to Reed.

"It seems that Empress Sato wants me dead," he said, "She thinks I might pose a threat to her power. There's a rather generous price on my head, but only if proof of my death is provided."

"Looks like you're lucky to be here," said Tucker.

"Indeed. And it seems that Sato wants you alive. There's a generous bounty on your head that will be paid only if you are delivered healthy and well-enough to work on _The Defiant_. You must be flattered."

Tucker stared Reed down.

"Yep," he said, "but I've no plans return to Earth. So don't worry about me telling Sato where to look for you."

Tucker was unnerved. Reed's face was more difficult to read than T'Pol's, and that was saying something.

"That's comforting," said Reed, "but you should know I have no intention of slipping into anonymity. The outer colonies are filled with disgruntled Terrans, and no doubt there will be more flooding in on a daily basis. It should be easy enough to raise an army."

Tucker laughed out loud.

"Sato's power is based on her possession of one ship. She's overconfident, and she clearly doesn't understand that ship as well as you do. If you were to help me, I would be very generous when I became Emperor."

Tucker restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He might as well have been talking to Jonathan Archer. He had no intention of making the same mistake again.

"I'd even let you keep T'Pol," said Reed.

Tucker took a deep breath. The fact that he lived with T'Pol was hardly a secret. The whole ship knew. Reed could have found out easily from a guard or a steward, but he didn't like the fact that Reed knew. Reed got up from his chair and stared him down.

"Although, I never pegged you as a man who would enjoy fucking an iceberg, but maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe she's on fire beneath all that ice."

Tucker grinned despite himself, and Reed laughed.

"You're a sick bastard, Tucker," said Reed, "but at least your consistent. Transparent, too."

Tucker had no intention joining Reed in a suicidal attempt to overthrow Sato, but he saw no need to let Reed know that at the moment.

"We'll talk when we get to the outer colonies," said Tucker.

"That's all I ask," replied Reed.

***

Tolaris and T'Pol worked together on the bridge for several hours, and then she invited him into her ready room so they could discuss contingencies. _The Selok_ was the flagship of the Syrannite faction of the Vulcan rebellion, and the movement's new leader was developing a strategy that she hoped would encourage the new empress to open negotiations. Their ship's next mission would be a part of this new plan.

"I am pleased with all the you have done to make the ship more efficient," she said.

"It is my job. I am gratified that you appreciate my work," he replied.

After a pause, Tolaris spoke again.

"How are you adjusting to life on the ship? Are your quarters agreeable?"

"They are more than agreeable. I don't share our Romulan cousins' need for luxury."

"And your mate? He must appreciate the luxury. Humans are known for their decadence."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow and moved to reorganize some of the digital files on her table screen.

"Mr. Tucker finds our quarters comfortable," she said.

Tolaris stood up. He paused for a minute, and he put his hands behind his back.

"I hope you don't find my question too personal, but how did you come to mate with a human? I've never heard of a such thing."

T'Pol winced at the intimate nature of the question, but she suppressed her discomfort. Curiosity about her unusual living situation was natural, even among Vulcans. She did not want to create the impression that she had anything to hide. She very briefly explained how she had come to be bonded with Tucker.

Tolaris thought for a moment before responding.

"So, it was not intentional?"

"No, but the bond exists nonetheless and Mr. Tucker does not wish to break it."

"What about you,T'Pol? Do you wish to break it?"

"A bond cannot be broken without the consent of both parties. I am content with my mate."

She spoke in a tone that indicated she did not wish to discuss the subject further.

"I apologize, T'Pol. I confess to have been disappointed to discover you had bonded with another. Before I knew, I had spoken to T'Les about the possibility of . . .well, in any case, I hope you _are_ content."

T'Pol looked at the Vulcan, and she found herself pondering what it would be like to have a Vulcan mate and to live without being constantly bombarded with emotions and physical sensations. The notion was appealing, though she knew it was not her fate.

Tolaris nodded, and they begin to discuss the changes Tucker was making in the engineering room.

_At least_, thought T'Pol, _I can be proud of my mate's skills at his job_.

***

Liz Cutler had very few possessions to move to her new quarters, which were three decks and on the opposite side from Phlox's quarters. She had obtained up some clothes and toiletries since her arrival but nothing more. In the room, she had found a paper copy of "The Teachings of Surak" in English. There was a note signed by both T'Les and T'Pol wishing her well.

It had been a great shock to her, that the Vulcan women had treated her with such concern. She knew that an alien woman in a similar position on a Terran ship would not have been given the options that she had been given.

As her fingers traced the outer binding of the book, she thought of a conversation she had with the woman T'Les. The Vulcans didn't want to destroy the Terran Empire. They wanted to join it. Given the state of the empire, Liz hoped that Empress Sato would consider it. The logic of Vulcans might strengthen the Empire's crumbling social fabric.

Her door chimed.

"Come in," she said.

Tucker entered her quarters. She hasn't seen much of him, but like everyone else on the ship she knew he was now living with T'Pol. Liz had been surprised by this, since she had never heard rumors that connected them and during their time in the brig they seemed outright hostile to one another.

_On the other hand_, she thought,_ maybe that hostility should have clued me in_.

"Hello, Commander," she said.

"I came to check on you. T'Pol told me you'd be moving here. I wanted to see if you're okay."

Liz sighed happily. Since getting away from Phlox, it was though a weight had been lifted from her. She had thought her fate had been sealed the moment she was tossed into the brig all those months ago on _The Defian_t, but now she was safe.

"I'm fine. Wonderful, actually. T'Pol and T'Les both have made it clear that I'm a free woman. That I can stay or go if I wish. And T'Les even spoke to me about places I might go on Vulcan. I don't think I could survive in the outer colonies."

Liz paused.

"I'm really grateful to T'Pol sticking up for me," she said, "She didn't have to, you know. I hear Phlox was really furious. I haven't seen him."

Tucker smirked at her.

"Phlox can go hang. You're ten times the doctor he is, degree or no degree. I told T'Pol I'd be happy if she dropped him off at the next port, but the aliens on this ship think he's a hero."

Liz snickered.

"They won't for long. They just have to get to know him. I found out the hard way, myself, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Tucker looked at her very strangely at that, and for the life of her, Liz didn't know what he was thinking. He turned to go.

"For what it's worth, Liz," he said, "It's good to see you happy."

***

T'Pol stared at the fireplace in her bedroom, which she had set at on a low setting that made it appear like glowing embers. She was in her bed, and Tucker slept soundly at her side.

As the ship journeyed toward Vulcan, she and Tucker had developed a routine. She would return to their quarters after completing her duties and meditate for an hour. He would return from engineering, and they would engage in sexual relations. Following that, she instructed him in the art of neural-pressure to help alleviate his pain, and then they would sleep.

But something strange had happened during the sessions. They both had realized almost immediately that a side effect of these treatments was him quickly falling into a deep sleep. She had expected that, but it appeared to T'Pol that his human nervous system had proven more susceptible to the release of endorphins than a Vulcan.

During the treatments, his personality would change. She no longer felt overwhelmed by his anger towards her, and he would talk to her. He told her of his childhood in the place called Florida. He confided that the only person on Earth he missed was his younger sister, Elizabeth. He told her about problems he had solved in engineering. She found herself listening attentively, and even occasionally told him a little of her childhood on Vulcan.

By morning Tucker would return to his brooding, mocking self. But T'Pol sensed that she had discovered a way to control his torrent of emotions, emotions he bombarded her with through their bond. It would require research to make best use of the discovery, but she no longer felt helpless against him.


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: This world does not belong to me. _

_Rating: Hard R on this one. So much so, that I'm going to change the rating to M to be safe. This isn't the NC-17 version but there's couple things in this chapter that are pushing it. _

**Chapter 10**

Despite T'Les having insisted she honor the matebond with Tucker, T'Pol found the notion of her mother leaving the ship disagreeable. They had hardly communicated during her years in Starfleet, and T'Pol was grateful to have gotten reacquainted with her mother, who was her only close relative left alive. She had missed interacting with someone who knew her well and had great affection for her.

The day before they were to arrive at T'Khut, T'Pol spent several hours in her ready room with T'Les. They talked in detail about the Syrranite philosophy and how the philosophy would apply to the rebel strategy. Syrranties believed in avoiding violence and killing, but they were not opposed to threatening violence or destroying property. As a last resort, they would kill in self defense, but unlike other rebel groups they would not attempt mass killings of Terran citizens or Vulcan collaborators. Non Syrannite rebel groups had been engaging in such tactics for years.

T'Pau believe a less violent campaign could win over some of the Terrans to the rebel cause. Attacks on civilians alienated humans and caused them to dig in their heels, but T'Pau believed that annoying them rather than killing them would inspire some Terrans to ask the Empress to negotiate. The border regions were unstable, and the humans there were not inclined to support the Empire blindly and were more concerned with their daily lives than principles.

T'Pol cricked her neck and rubbed her shoulder.

Without a word, T'Les stepped behind T'Pol's chair and began applying pressure to several neural nodes in the back of her neck. The pain and tension drained away.

"Are you not instructing your mate in neural pressure? Your muscles should not be this tense."

T'Pol winced as her mother found the next tense spot in spine.

"I am, but his needs are greater than mine given his injuries. Plus his skills are still limited."

"I shall speak to him about this. He needs to fulfill his duty to you."

T'Pol inhaled.

"That is not necessary," replied T'Pol.

"I will decide what is necessary regarding you," said T'Les, "I am responsible for you being appointed captain of this vessel. I must see to it that you are in optimal health to best do your job. Once I'm no longer on the ship, there will be no one else to look after you except Mr. Tucker."

T'Pol did not reply to her mother, but she doubted Charles was interested in caring for her. He viewed the bond as a means to an end. _The Selok_ provided him a relatively safe place where he could hide away from the Empress's grasp and make use of his engineering skills. As the mate of the Captain and the head engineer, he held a high position among the rebels despite being human. Even though he enjoyed sharing her bed, he certainly had no affection for her in the way that Vulcans defined affection. During their weeks together, she had sensed attraction and possessiveness toward her but no affection. She certainly didn't believe he loved her, as T'Les has earlier claimed.

"My dear," said T'Les in response to her silence, "give him time. He bonded with you as sure as you bonded with him. Buried under all that scorn lies love, I promise you that."

T'Pol leaned away from her mother, fearing T'Les had melded with her to learn her thoughts.

"How did you. . .?"

"I don't need telepathy to read you. You're far more transparent that you should be," she replied, "Now, let us return to a discussion of your ship's upcoming missions as well as what you should expect when we reach T'Khut."

***

Talas and T'Pol worked together on the bridge, with T'Pol helping her implement some more regimented security measures modeled on Starfleet. The rebels' organization was chaotic at times, something T'Pol found alarming given that the leaders were Vulcans. On the other hand, the rebels came from many different species and all of these people working together was bound to create disorder. However, if the right systems were put in place, T'Pol believed that the diversity of her crew could become an asset. The Federation she had read about on _The Defiant_ had made her confident of this.

"Captain," said Talas, "Would you object if I solicited advice from Major Reed? He has no reason to be loyal to Starfleet, and his expertise in these matters is greater than yours."

T'Pol noticed that Talas's antennae twitched every time Major Reed was mentioned. In wasn't T'Pol's business, but she did wonder if Talas's attraction to Major Reed was misplaced. T'Pol had never found any allure in Reed's coldness. On the other hand, the Andorian woman's point was well-taken. Reed did have knowledge that could help them.

"Approach him with caution, Talas," she replied carefully, "but any information he would be willing to provide would be appreciated."

Talas smiled just a little, and her antennae twitched even more.

"Thank you," she said, "I'm sure he'll be very helpful."

Talas was curiously silent after that.

"You are dismissed," responded T'Pol.

As the Andorian disappeared out the door, T'Pol noticed she had gotten a text message from Tucker. He was politely asking her to come down to engineering. He had a few options in mind for engine upgrades, each of which had their pros and cons. As Captain, he felt it should be her decision which ones he implemented.

His tone was very formal, almost too formal. He never failed to respect her position as Captain, but she detected a hint of mockery in his deference.

She inhaled as she tapped a return message indicating she would come to see him shortly. She didn't like seeing him during the day for fear the bond would assert itself, and she wouldn't be able to keep her professionalism in tact. Nonetheless, it seemed a visit was necessary and she needed go. Hopefully, Tucker would be able to keep his focus on ship's business as well.

***

Reed sat at his table when the door of his quarters opened. In strode the Andorian woman, his counterpart on this ship. This_ blue woman_ was in charge of security. She'd also displayed a very peculiar curiosity toward him, and she appeared interested in befriending him.

She was speaking, saying something about his skills and his knowledge being helpful. She was asking for his cooperation and peppering the request with flattery. Her blue skin flushed white and her antennae vibrated as she talked.

Reed knew an opportunity when he saw one. He didn't know quite how gaining this woman's trust would help him, but he figured it would. Since he couldn't go back to the Empress, he didn't see any reason why he couldn't give this Andorian a few bits of helpful information.

He politely asked her to sit down. He noticed that she did so in a way that was intended to be sexually provocative. Unlike that pervert Tucker, alien women had never held much fascination for Reed. He had always thought that one should stick to one's own kind, but that was when he was around mostly his own kind. Perhaps his new situation required a bit of flexibility.

In any case, the Andorian woman wouldn't be a challenge. She was practically offering herself to him right there. He knew nothing about Andorian sexual practices, but he didn't think he could be mistaking her body language.

She pulled out a PADD and began to take notes. He spoke carefully, answering all her questions. He watched her long fingers and remembered torturing an Andorian male once by snapping each of the blue fingers in turn. By the time Reed had reached number ten, the man had told him all he knew, but Reed's sense of balance required him to break all ten fingers. Leaving one untouched would have been — incomplete.

He had never tortured an Andorian woman. Usually, humanoid males had a higher tolerance than females, but the wasn't the case in all species. Would it be the case with Andorians? He didn't know.

Her blue skin was smooth and perfect compared to human women. He tried to remember what color bruises were on Andorians. Purple? White? He couldn't recall. Talas didn't have any bruises or wounds visible, but maybe underneath her clothes he'd get to see.

_Not today though_, he thought,_ I'm too tired today. _

***

Tolaris had some inventories to take in engineering before they arrived at T'Khut. He carried his PADD to the main engineering section and found Kov monitoring the warp drive and several other crewmembers busy performing various tasks. Despite himself, he admired the changes the human Tucker had brought to engineering. The warp drive was already five percent more efficient and there seemed to be a logical order to how maintenance tasks were more performed.

_More logical than when Kov was in charge_, thought Tolaris ruefully.

He may not have liked Tucker, but his skills certainly were useful. He and T'Pol had both proved excellent additions to the crew, their Starfleet experience and training being far more extensive than any of the rebels.

Tolaris needed some information from Tucker, so he asked Kov where he was.

"He's in the CR 2011," replied Kov, "He's meeting with the Captain."

Tolaris nodded. This was convenient since he also needed to speak with the Captain. He headed down the hallway toward the conference room that Tucker had converted into a workspace.

When Tolaris saw the door was shut, he nearly turned around. But curiosity gripped him, and he instead decided to peer through the latticework on the door to see if Tucker and the Captain truly were inside. The ornamentation had small holes that provided an blurred view of the conference room's interior, if one put one's eye directly against the door. Tolaris immediately regretted the decision to look.

He couldn't believe his eyes. Seated in one of the chairs, the human had taken T'Pol into his lap and was kissing her on the mouth. The man's hand slipped into her robes and appeared to be caressing her breasts. Tolaris's keen Vulcan hearing picked up their whispered conversation.

"This would be more appropriate in our quarters," she said.

"I'm sick of fucking you in our quarters," he replied, "I wanna do you here."

Tolaris watched in horror as the human stood up and turned T'Pol around bent her over the table. He used one hand to undo his pants and the other lifted up her robes. Soon he was thrusting into her as though the blood fever had taken him.

Tolaris felt rage boil up inside him that was difficult to suppress. A human had no right to use a Vulcan woman in such a base way, especially one of such high rank. T'Pol had all but told him that she objected to being bonded with a human. It sickened him to think what it was like for her to endure the human's attentions. They were a truly despicable race.

Tolaris nevertheless continued to watch the encounter with fascination. Eventually T'Pol cried out and the human shuddered against her. As Tucker rearranged their clothes, T'Pol's face returned it its serene normalcy. As she moved to leave, Tucker smacked T'Pol on her posterior.

"See you tonight, baby." he said.

T'Pol approached the door. Quietly and quickly, Tolaris back up several paces and when the door opened it appeared he was just arriving. It took all the mental discipline he had, but Tolaris was able to inquire about the inventory without hinting what he had seen, but he knew he wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon.

***

Tucker looked up from his chair to see T'Les standing in the doorway of his workspace.

"May I come in Mr. Tucker?"

Tucker nodded but started to feel a bit nervous about inviting her in the room. Vulcan women had very acute noses, and he feared that his mother-in-law would sniff out what had happened between him and T'Pol during their little meeting earlier. He hadn't planned to screw T'Pol on the conference table, but she looked so damn Vulcan in those robes she was wearing today that he hadn't been able to help himself. The more Vulcan T'Pol appeared, the more he enjoyed undoing her control.

He took a deep breath and hoped T'Les would have to good grace not to mention it if she did realize what had happened. To his surprise, Tucker realized that he didn't want T'Les to dislike him or start to regret her support of his claim on her daughter.

"Have a seat," he said.

"I'll stand," she replied and walked toward the window. "I wish to speak to you about your duty to my daughter."

Tucker grimaced. That didn't sound good.

"Go on," said Tucker, certain he was going to get some kind of lecture on Vulcan propriety.

Instead, T'Les started talking about tension in T'Pol's neck and how he was supposed to get rid of it. Vulcans apparently experience lots of muscle tension due to their suppression of emotion, and spouses helped manage this with the neural pressure that T'Pol had been teaching him. He'd spent some time working on her, but the lion's share of the treatments had been given to him by her."

"I realize that you're injuries are more extensive, but if T'Pol's stress is not managed, she'll soon experience health difficulties."

Tucker leaned back in his chair. T'Les stood at the end of the table, her hands behind her back.

"I don't want her to get sick," he replied almost without thinking.

"I didn't think you would, but she expressed reticence to ask you for help so I felt it necessary to intervene."

Tucker didn't reply.

"As you know," she continued, "I will be soon leaving this ship. You will be fully responsible for her well-being after I am gone."

Tucker bit his lip. This lady didn't have a clue what really went on been T'Pol and him, and he was damn certain that she didn't really want to know. On the other hand, Tucker wasn't exactly sure what the hell was going on between him and T'Pol. He may have enjoyed messing with her head, but he wasn't sure he actually wished harm on her.

"Because of the bond, her suffering becomes your suffering and vice versa," said T'Les, "Surely you've figured that out by now, Mr. Tucker."

He was quiet. He _definitely_ didn't like the idea of T'Pol suffering at the hands of anyone or anything but him. The fact the he would suffer as well only made these feelings more acute. The one thing this crazy bond had given him was the sense that she belonged to him, and as strange as it was, that made him protective of her.

As safe as it had felt on this rebel ship, he recognized that their life was dangerous and ugly and the odds of either of them dying in bed were slim.

"Mr. Tucker?"

"Yeah. . . .I heard you. I'll make sure to help her. I'll take care of her," he said.

T'Les nodded, and she appeared satisfied.

"Do not make me regret supporting your rights toward my daughter," she said, "because if you do, there will be consequences."

Before he could respond, T'Les turned on her heel and exited.

***

Later that night, T'Pol found her white space elusive. She had been discomfited by her encounter with Charles in the middle of the day. When she was near him, he practically bathed her in his emotions. She could not control herself around him, and consequently, she needed to speak to him about them avoiding each other during the day.

She climbed in the shower and hoped the hot water would sooth her muscles. She didn't know how she could endure a lifetime of this emotional bombardment. It wasn't so much that she disliked their encounters. She looked forward to them. Access to his mind and body allowed her to experience emotions that had been forbidden to her her whole life, and now she couldn't get enough of them even though she felt deep shame every time she gave into the bond between them. She couldn't continue to live like this, could she? Surely, she would eventually be destroyed by him.

She was there for awhile when she sensed his presence. She kept her eyes closed as he joined her in the shower.

"You're mom asked me to work on getting rid of your neck tension," he said, pressing his fingers into one of the pressure points she had shown him.

"I told her not to bother you with it," she replied.

"She said its my duty," he said, "and who am I to contradict Mama T'Les? She's the one that brought to us together after all."

He pressed harder, T'Pol gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain as she felt the pain drain away.

After that, Tucker mimicked some of the other motions she had used on him before - working down her spine, across her shoulder blades and then to her lower back.

She put both hands against the shower wall for support. He wasn't being delicate, and she felt her eyes get heavy.

"Are you going to be the sleepy one tonight, darlin'?"

She was barely conscious when Tucker turned off the water and reached for a towel with which to dry and wrap her. He led her to the bed and helped her climb in.

"Sweet dreams," she heard him say through a haze, and then she slept.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One _

_Rating: R. Still not the NC-17 version, but not for young eyes. _

**Chapter 11**

Empress Sato paced the cavernous reception room of her palace, her footsteps echoing in the emptiness. Sometimes, she felt it necessary to force the sycophants and toadies that surrounded her from the room on their hands and knees, just so she could have a moment's peace and quiet to think.

The Empire was crumbling around her. Over expansion had weakened it militarily and economically, and corruption was eating away at its core. The people had been outright jubilant when they heard of the death of her predecessor. Sato did not wish for such celebrations to occur upon her death. She wanted the people to mourn her, and she knew it would be difficult to earn this honor.

Once _The Defiant_'s technology had been unlocked in such a way that it could be used in other ships and weapons, the military situation would improve. But that was only part of the equation. She needed to bring social stabilization as well.

She had been studying the Federation described in _The Defiant_'s database. Much of its premises were completely naive and not applicable to her world. However, Sato was drawn to the idea of allowing other races to join up with the Empire as citizens. Keeping the rebels at bay was taxing the military, as insurgencies were difficult and costly to crush. But if the rebels were given an incentive to put down their arms on her terms rather than theirs, it might be wise to negotiate with the more malleable factions.

The Vulcans, although she hated to admit it, were not stupid. They were intelligent, strong and highly focused people despite their twisted social mores and irritating personality quirks. They would see the logic in joining the Empire rather than fighting it, and Vulcans placed in strategic positions throughout in her administration might very well root out some of the corruption and incompetence that plagued the Empire on every level.

Another thing she hated to admit was that Max had been right to trust T'Pol. She had been loyal to him and had thwarted Archer's first mutiny. In her heart of hearts, Sato even conceded to herself that her personal dislike of T'Pol had been a product of jealousy. It wasn't difficult to imagine that Max's admiration of such beautiful woman could turn to attraction.

Andorians were also a strong people, as nearly as predictable as Vulcans in their application of passion as opposed to logic. They were military minded, enjoyed a good fight and good living and would certainly be attracted to the economic benefits of the Empire. They would also make excellent foils for the Klingon marauders who continued to attack the outer colonies.

Tellarites were dim, stubborn and ugly, but they had trade relationships with countless species. If they could be convinced to help open those trade routes to the Empire, that could go along way toward solving the economic crisis.

But negotiations for these races to join the Empire had to come from a place of strength, not weakness. They couldn't mistake her generosity for fear. That meant she needed more ships — ships as powerful as _The Defiant_.

Losing the prisoners in the brig had been a blow to her plans. She had scoured the planet for all the best engineering minds, and none of them had proved as efficient and skilled as Tucker. Although she had always dismissed Phlox as a worthless quack, it appeared that his mutli-species knowledge would be quite helpful in understanding _The Defiant's_ medical database. Sato even regretted the loss of T'Pol, who she hadn't intended to execute and had hoped to use as a conduit for negotiations with the Vulcans.

Reed was another matter. Since his disappearance, she had learned that he had ruled his men by pure fear and most of them would have been happy to see him dead. Reed didn't understand that you also needed to win respect along with fear. On top of that, he was rumored to be blindly ambitious. Although Sato was not unhappy he was gone, she did not like that he was still alive. Of all the prisoners, she should have executed him immediately.

Sato glanced over to the data screen in the corner. She received intelligence reports every, single day with no word on what had happened to the prisoners. It was though they had evaporated into space. She had offered generous rewards, and nothing had come of them. It was beyond frustrating.

She had to find them. Tucker especially. All her plans hinged on it.

* * *

It was early in the morning, still the middle of the night by some measures, and Tucker was in bed, staring at the ceiling. Next him, T'Pol slept soundly, curled in fetal position with her head resting on her hand. Tucker glanced down at her.

She looked very beautiful as she slept. Her face lacked the intensity it did during the day. Something about the cool Vulcan mask took work in the daytime. At night, she really was at peace.

Even though they had this freak telepathic bond, Tucker still didn't quite get T'Pol. He knew she didn't want to be married to him, that she had resisted the idea and had been shocked that he pressed his claim on her. But she submitted to him because that's what Vulcans did and she wanted to be a good Vulcan.

He also knew she enjoyed the sex, and he didn't even need the bond to know that. The bond certainly confirmed it, not to mention revealing how ashamed she was for enjoying it. It made her feel un-Vulcan, apparently.

Even she must have recognized the irony in that. In order to honor the bond like a good Vulcan, she had to do very dirty, un-Vulcan things with him. He chuckled to himself at that thought of her working out the logic of that.

He leaned over and inhaled the air close to her. He had come to love the mixture of copper and spices that smelled like perfume. He also loved that he had twisted her up in emotional knots. It seemed like perfect revenge for what she had done to him.

In fact, he wasn't as angry as he had been. He still thought about what she did to him, but the rage was no longer there. He was even toying with the idea of forgiving her in earnest. He just didn't see how it made sense to keep making her atone for something that had — when he considered it objectively — been a logical means by which to accomplish her goal. The world was a rough place, and he recognized that there had been no malice in her actions. She regretted causing him harm, and thanks to this bond, he knew that for certain.

He reached out and very softly traced the outline of her pointed ear with his finger.

_I'll make her wait a little longer_, he thought, _but I'll let her off the hook eventually._

_

* * *

_It was mid-morning, and _The Selok_ was in orbit above T'Khut, still cloaked. Several Terran Empire ships were in the area, and they had to be very careful about sending shuttles to the surface. There would be a safe window late that afternoon, and she, her mother, Tolaris and several of the other Vulcans were going to head to the surface to meet with T'Pau and the council of Syrannite rebels.

"Have you ever met T'Pau?" asked T'Pol.

"No," replied Tolaris, "I haven't. I'm not a Syrannite, although I admire many of her principles."

T'Pol looked up.

"I thought all the Vulcans on this ship were Syrannites."

Tolaris looked into her eyes.

"Most of them are. Kov and I belong to another sect. One that interprets the teachings of Surak differently. We're V'tosh Ka'tur."

T'Pol was shocked. She had heard of Vulcans without logic, but she had thought the movement obscure. She had certainly never thought to meet someone who practiced such a radical philosophy.

"I try and be discreet about my practices, out of respect for those who don't agree. But when my wife was killed, I no longer saw the logic in suppressing all my emotions," said Tolaris, "I believed that those emotions, if channeled probably, could be of great benefit to me as I moved forward with my life. . . She _was_ a Syrannite, she was staying at an outpost on The Forge. The group were rebels, but they had no weapons and no violent intentions. That didn't stop the Terrans from making an example of them and wiping them out."

T'Pol's face remained a mask, but she sympathized. The Massacre at the Forge had been so egregious that there was outcry on Earth against it.

"I'd be insane by now if I had tried to repress the anger and grief I felt," said Tolaris, "Instead, I used those emotions to become stronger."

T'Pol looked down.

"I'm glad that you chose a path that serves you well," she replied.

Tolaris leaned over to her. He reached out as if to touch her, but he stopped short - his fingers near her temple.

"It could serve you well, T'Pol," he whispered.

She was still.

"What do you mean?"

"Why should you have to honor a matebond that formed by accident during your blood fever? Why should you be bound to a human for life? Tell me how that is logical?"

T'Pol swallowed.

"The bond formed for a reason, by mutual consent."

"How can you know that? And even if that were true — there's no logic in suffering the way you have been. Don't deny it. I know you've suffered at his hands. The bond can be broken. I can help you. You deserve a mate that knows what it is to be Vulcan. That _respects_ what it is to be Vulcan."

He paused, and her lips began to tremble.

"If I were bonded with you, you would not regret a moment of it," he said, "and I can help you break the bond with him."

She looked up at Tolaris. His emotions were transparent, almost human. He pitied her. He cared for her. He wanted what was best for her.

He also wanted her.

"T'Les told me that severing the bond might kill Mr. Tucker," she replied, "Could you break the bond without harming him?"

He grabbed her shoulders.

"Why should you care what happens to that human after what he has done to you?"

She broke free of his grip and stood up. She glared at him.

"I will do nothing to harm Mr. Tucker," she replied coolly.

Whatever her confused feelings toward Tucker were, she was responsible for the bond between them, and he did not deserve to die because of it.

"The perverse bond clouds your judgment."

T'Pol raised her hand, a gesture which silenced him.

"We will speak no more about this," she said, "That is an order. I will not consent to severing the bond. Mr. Tucker is my mate and he will remain so."

Tolaris seemed to want to speak, but he didn't. His body language returned to normal.

"Yes, Captain," he replied.

"Your concern for me is noted, but it is misplaced," she said, "Dismissed."

T'Pol sat back down. She took a moment to suppress the emotions that bubbled forth in her mind, and then she continued on with her work.

* * *

T'Pol returned to her quarters to fetch some things and perhaps rest awhile before leaving for the surface. The meetings with T'Pau and the council would be long and involved, and she would have little time to herself.

She had just finished packing her bag, when Tucker arrived home.

"I didn't expect you," she said softly.

"Came to say goodbye," he said.

She nodded and sealed up her bag for the journey and placed it on the floor. He strode and grabbed her arm, firmly.

"What happen this morning? You got real upset. I could feel it. That never happens unless I'm around. Who upset you?"

She stared at him and felt her thoughts flowing towards his mind. She didn't know if he would be able to read them.

"Tolaris. He touched you, didn't he?"

She she looked down at where Tucker gripped her arm. She wanted to break free, but she thought it best not to try.

"He was simply concerned for my well being," she said carefully, "I told him I was fine and it was none of his concern."

"What was? You were talking about me?"

T'Pol couldn't meet his gaze. She continued to look at his arm, and she felt him loosen his grip.

"He wanted to know if I was content with our situation. I told him I was."

"Sounds to me like he didn't take no for an answer."

"He agreed not to bring up the subject again."

Tucker pulled her close to him.

"You liked it that he was concerned, didn't you? You think maybe you'd be better off with a Vulcan husband? One that only bothers you every seven years?"

She looked up at him.

"It is illogical to dwell on what cannot be. Our bond cannot be severed. I must be content."

She could feel his heart beating in his chest as he pressed her against him.

"But you're not content, are you? I can sense it. You don't like that I'm still angry, do you?"

She shook her head no, but she sensed something very strange flowing from his mind. He was concerned for her, and for the first time, she sensed a desire that she be content with him. He clearly found the notion of her leaving him disagreeable, and his sense that Tolaris had suggested himself as an alternative mate made him outright furious.

The torrent of emotions was too much for her, so she moved away from him. To her surprise, he didn't stop her as she walked to the window and looked at the stars. She stared at one blue star in particular, focusing on it so that she wouldn't have to focus on him.

"You're mine, baby, that's how this works," she heard him say, "but I think its time to put the past behind us."

There was something odd, something amused by his tone. She knew he was going to do _something_ to her, but she had no idea what. The anticipation caused a mixture of fear and excitement in her. She continued to focus on that blue star as she heard him approach.

"You may not understand this, being a Vulcan, but it's going to make me feel a hell of a lot better."

She still didn't look him, but all of a sudden, she felt his hand smack her rear end. She closed her eyes.

"You were a very bad girl, T'Pol," he said, "and I'm just giving you what you deserve."

His voice was playful, notably lacking scorn, and he smacked her again. He paused for a moment and smacked her again. The pain wasn't acute, in fact he had done this to her a few times during sexual relations, and she had found it a curiously pleasant sensation.

He paused for what seemed like an age, before hitting her again.

She knew this was an act human's performed on their children when they had committed some infraction, to cause them mild pain but no real damage. Strange, she thought, the human habit of treating their lovers as children. Tucker often called her "baby" and would hold her as though she was child. Now, he was disciplining her like a child.

He smacked her again. Even though he hit her through the robes, she started to feel a bit more pain each time he hit her.

"You do have a gorgeous ass," he said, as he hit her once again.

She remained silent, with her eyes closed. Each time he hit her, she felt some of the resentment and anger dissipate. As strange as she found his actions, this alone made them worth enduring. He hit her again, and for the first time she winced in pain.

"Had enough?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

He smacked her again. She suppressed a bit of anger, but this time she did not wince in pain.

"Are you sorry for what you did to me?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

She heard his footsteps as he walked away from her.

"Turn around and look at me," he said.

She obeyed. He was seated in a chair near the fireplace.

"Now," he said, "Come here."

She began to walk toward him, but he held his hand up in a gesture for her to stop.

"Don't walk. Crawl. I need to see that you're sorry."

T'Pol suppressed a bit of annoyance. She was starting to understand the game, and she knew that disobeying would not be a prudent course of action. She did, however, recognize that once she fully understood the rules of this game that she would likely be able to turn the tables on him.

She got down on her hands and knees and crawled toward him, grateful for the plush Romulan rug beneath her. When she reached him, she kept her eyes fixed on the rug, waiting for him.

He pulled her up and placed her across his lap. She expected him to hit her again, but he didn't. Instead, he caressed her behind and kissed each of her buttocks in turn.

"Now you can thank me," he said.

She inhaled, even further determined to turn the tables on him eventually, but she did as she was told.

"Thank you," she said clearly.

"Say my name," he said with a laugh, his hand brushing over her backside.

"Thank you, Charles," she said with a deceptive sweetness in her voice.

"Perfect," he said, lifting her from his lap, "and now I do feel better."

She knelt next to him and for several moments said nothing. She could tell his strange actions had caused him to become hard, and she reached up and pressed against the bulge in his pants with her hand.

"You've become aroused," she said.

"Oh yeah," he said.

She unfastened his pants and released his cock from its confinement.

"Do you wish me to attend to your arousal?"

He glanced over at the chronometer.

"Looks like you've got an hour or so to kill, So, yeah. Yeah, I would."

She nodded and did as he asked, acutely and triumphantly aware that he seemed to have forgiven her. The bond energy flowed between them, and she sensed no lingering anger toward her. For the first time in the weeks they had been on _The Selok_, she sensed that he was content. They were both content.

* * *

Travis strolled into the Empress's receiving room, grinning. She smiled back at him, if only because she was happy to see a legitimate smile as opposed to the forced smirks of her courtiers.

He bowed formally, with flourish.

"I have a gift for you, Empress,"

Sato stood up and walked toward him. People showered her with gifts all the time. She had an entire room of expensive crap people thought would please her. She hated most of it. She didn't become Empress for presents, but something about Travis's tone intrigued her. She brushed his chin with her fingers, and he stood up straight before her. Their eyes met.

"A gift?" she said, "What is it?"

Travis shouted for his guards. Through the door, two of them appeared with a young woman between them. They herded her toward the Empress and pushed her to her knees.

The woman appeared to be in her twenties with a mess of sandy blond hair, and she was dressed in simple, professional clothes and very little makeup. Sato glanced over at Travis. Pretty though she was, if this woman was supposed to be a concubine, she was certainly a peculiar choice. Travis smiled again.

"Aren't you going to ask me who she is?"

Sato shot him a look and approached the prisoner.

"Why don't you introduce yourself?"

The woman looked up at Sato, and The Empress saw both fear and confusion in her blue eyes.

"My name is Elizabeth Tucker, your highness" she said softly.

Travis grinned, clearly very proud of himself.

"Tucker once said to me that the only human being in the universe he gave a damn about was his baby sister," said Travis.

Sato couldn't help herself, and she cracked a huge smile and jumped up and kissed Travis.

"You are such a beautiful man," she said, "I can't think of a better present."

Sato turned to Elizabeth Tucker and gently helped her to her feet. She felt the woman tremble. She took her hand in her own and led her to the private chambers off the main room.

"Welcome, Elizabeth," she said, "Did these terrible men give you the impression you're a prisoner?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Well, there are going to get a stern talking to for that. You're here as my guest, and I'm going to make sure you have a lovely time during your stay."

"Thank you, your highness," she said.

"You're welcome. Come this way. We can get to know each other in my chambers - far away from prying eyes. I want to hear all about your childhood. You're from Florida, right?"

Sato glanced over as Travis, and she took Elizabeth's arm and led her away.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Rating: PG-13 to R

A/N: So, there are two Elizabeths in this story. Liz Cutler will be referred to as Liz and Elizabeth Tucker will be referred to as Elizabeth (or Lizzie as her brother calls her).

**Chapter 12**

Elizabeth Tucker's life had gotten weird. Terrifying, too. But more than that, things had just gotten weird. She was lying on a bed in the Empress's private chambers having her nails manicured and painted pink. The woman doing her nails was the Empress. That wasn't normal, was it?

Sato's inner chamber was small comparable to her receiving room but still large by any normal standard. The room had a series of windows that looked out on San Francisco Bay, but the tints had been dimmed because Sato was enjoying a film on the Vid Screen while she painted Elizabeth's nails. Elizabeth thanked her lucky stars that she had taught herself how to do nails in high school because she suspected she'd be asked to return the favor for the Empress, who was calling this a "girl's day" in her chambers. It being girl's day didn't stop Sato from signing a few execution and arrest orders or berating a couple of her ministers.

A week prior, Elizabeth had been working as an assistant architect at the largest firm in Pensacola. Mostly, she did floor plans for hotels, schools and prisons. Once and awhile, she got to design a house all on her own. Although her boss was hardly a candidate for the Pritzker Prize, he made sure that the buildings they designed were safe and utilitarian. When she wasn't working, her life had been somewhat lonely. She would go home to her small bungalow and her two cats, where she would read or watch old movies.

It had gotten lonelier since her brother had disappeared. Although she was saddened and worried by his imprisonment, it did triple the amount of letters she got from him. She rarely spoke to her parents, and Trip was really the only person in the world that gave damn about her. Him and maybe her neighbor Mrs. Sommerville. As Elizabeth was being marched away from her home at the point of disruptor, Mrs. Sommerville had shouted to her that she would look after her cats.

Elizabeth glanced sideways at her reflection in a big gilded mirror on the wall. Sato had sent her to the palace's beauty parlor that morning where she had had her hair cut and dyed blond. Elizabeth now realized her new hairstyle had been designed to make her resemble the heroine of the film they were watching.

"Did I tell you this has been my favorite film since I was a little girl? It's really about female empowerment."

Elizabeth nodded, keeping her hand still as the Empress painted.

"When I was a little girl I wanted a chihuahua, so I could be just like Elle," she said, by way of making conversation.

"Maybe we can still make that happen! There are perks to being the Empress's friend."

Elizabeth smiled, despite herself.

_Couldn't they have just put me in a nice, sane dungeon?_

Since her arrest, Elizabeth's life had become a blur. She knew the arrest was all about her brother Trip and his escape from Starfleet. The last she had heard from him, he was being held in the brig of _The Defiant_ and trying to earn the Empress's trust. It was only after her arrest that she had learned that Trip had escaped or been taken and was missing without a trace. This news was somewhat of a relief, since when his letters abruptly stopped Elizabeth had feared the worst. Now, it seemed there was at least a chance he still lived. More importantly, Sato wanted him back to work on_ The Defiant_ and planned to use her as bait to lure him back.

Instead of throwing her into a dungeon or prison or work camp, Sato had installed her into rooms near her own and proceeded to treat her as though they were the best of friends. If they weren't watching old films together, Sato giving her advice about clothes and ordering new things to be made in Elizabeth's size. She asked her about her love life and what her favorite music was. Sato even ordered them girly cocktails like cosmopolitans and margaritas, which Elizabeth hated but drank with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Sato had also made her access all the letters Trip had sent her. Thankfully, nothing in them was incriminating. In fact, Trip had over and over again said that his loyalty was to the Empire and all he wanted was his old job back so he could continue to serve. This seemed to please Sato.

"You'll help me find him, won't you?" Sato had whispered into her ear once as she was braiding her hair.

"I only want my brother to be well and safe," Elizabeth had replied, "and so I will do anything I can to help you."

That had seemed to please the Empress.

As the credits rolled and the bouncy music about perfect days filled the room, Sato fell backwards on the bed with a laugh.

"Tell me, Elizabeth, are you enjoying your stay?"

_Hardly_. _Being waterboarded wouldn't be as harsh psychological torture as this. _

"I'm very grateful for all your kindnesses, Empress."

"I told you to call me Hoshi when we are in this room. Only in this room, of course."

"Okay, Hoshi," replied Elizabeth.

Sato reached up and caressed her cheek.

"Are you still confused? Are you still frightened?"

Elizabeth thought very carefully for a moment.

"I respect your power, Hoshi, and I am flattered that you consider me a good companion. But I have found my new circumstances strange. I never thought to be a slave. . ."

Sato sat straight up. She locked eyes with Elizabeth.

"Don't say that. You're not a slave. You're a _guest_. A guest that's going to help me get what I want. As long as you do that, you'll stay in my good graces."

Elizabeth nodded. She certainly felt like she was a slave, but she didn't dare contradict Sato.

"I'm glad of that," replied Elizabeth.

"In fact," whispered Sato, "You can have use of the slaves here at the palace. I've got plenty of them. Consider them at your disposal."

Elizabeth nodded tentatively. She knew the black clad men and women who kept their eyes down and never spoke were slaves. Elizabeth despised the concept of slavery, though she would never be so foolish as to advertise that fact.

"Would you like to meet my favorite slave?"

"Sure," said Elizabeth, who had never been a good liar but was learning. She hoped the Empress wouldn't notice that her drawl became more pronounced when she was lying.

"Good. I've been saving introducing you for a special occasion. But now's as good a time as any. He's in the other room. I'll ring for him."

Sato pressed a couple of buttons on her console. Soon, a man, dressed in a simple black pants and a black shirt crawled in to the room on his hands and knees.

"Stay there for a moment," ordered Sato, "Elizabeth, did you know the world slave comes from the latin meaning 'to save' because most slaves were spared death by their gracious conquerors?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"I never took Latin. I took Spanish and Chinese."

"I'm a linguist," said Sato, "and you learn all sorts of things when you are a linguist."

Elizabeth knew that the Empress had been a language expert. She had mentioned it several times, as if she missed that part of her life.

"Anyway," she said, "I don't like killing things that might be of use to me. I like to keep them around. Come here, Jonathan, I'd like you to meet Elizabeth."

Elizabeth was startled. _Jonathan_. Could it be? Trip had told her the circumstances leading up to his imprisonment. Elizabeth had also seen pictures of the crew of _Enterprise_ on the news. The man crawling toward them looked like he could be the same Jonathan Archer that Sato was said to have murdered in her own power grab. Trip's loyalty to the man had cost her brother his freedom, possibly his life.

Sato wasn't wearing any shoes, and she pressed her foot to the floor. Jonathan kissed her foot.

"You can look up now," said Sato, "This is my friend Elizabeth. If I'm not around, you have to obey her, understood?"

Elizabeth looked down at the man on the floor as he stared up at her. His green eyes were blank, but she recognized him. She had been right about his identity.

"It's nice to meet you," said Elizabeth, feeling beyond awkward.

"Likewise," he said.

There was no intonation in his voice. Elizabeth wondered if the man had been drugged or worse, tortured into submission or madness. She knew from her brother's letters, that he had been a ruthless man, but he had won Trip's respect. It pained her to see someone who had once been strong put in such a weak position.

Sato patted the bed they were lounging on and Jonathan crawled up between them. He moved to kiss the Empress, but she waved him away.

"I don't need you tonight, Jon," said Sato, "Travis is going to be here in awhile and he's a much less tiresome lover than you - even with your newfound gift for silence."

Jonathan leaned back. Elizabeth studied his eyes. She thought she detected a glint of something - some hint of humanity there.

"Why don't you give Elizabeth a back rub?" said Sato.

Jonathan Archer looked over at her. Elizabeth knew better than to refuse the Empress's offer, so she nodded slightly at the man and leaned forward. Soon, she felt his strong hands at her back.

As she looked at the Empress, a shiver went down Elizabeth's spine. The first night in the palace, she had feared that one or more of the officers or the guards would crawl into her bed and violate her. That didn't happen. Everyone treated her with the utmost respect. After that, she waited for Sato to make an advance on her, one to which she would have to acquiesce. Although Sato had touched her often, nothing sexual ever happened. Sato seemed to treat her as a close platonic friend.

But now, as Jonathan's fingers began to work at the knots her back, she saw an alarming glint in Sato's eye. Elizabeth wasn't terribly worldly, but she recognized that the Empress was getting turned on by watching them, and it was just a back rub.

_Great_, she thought, _just great._

Elizabeth closed her eyes and while the knots in her back were disappearing, one in her stomach replaced it.

***

A majority of the Vulcans had gone to the surface with the Captain and T'Les, so Talas found herself in command of the _The Selok_. Not that it mattered, as they were simply orbiting T'Khut while cloaked. Tolaris might have enjoyed supervising general maintenance tasks and day-to-day operations, but Talas found such mundanities the worst part of being an officer. She wasn't terribly good at them either.

She didn't see the point of doing things that Tolaris enjoyed and did better just because he wasn't around. Anything that wasn't immediately necessary could wait until he returned.

She sighed deeply and looked at herself in the mirror. While the others were on the surface, nothing was interesting or fun going to happen. She was bored and decided to seek out some entertainment.

Talas dressed in her favorite leather catsuit and sprayed herself with her lucky perfume. She had been visiting Reed off and on for days. He remained an enigma, but she sensed he was attracted to her. Like most humans, he pretended indifference but that just made him more interesting.

She headed to his quarters, a slight skip in her step. She rang the chime on Reed's room, and he called for her to enter. She strode in confidently and saw him lying on his bed.

"The Captain wanted me to thank you again for taking out one of the Klingons,"

"It was my pleasure," replied Reed.

Talas walked to his bed.

"We should be able to release you at our next stop, or so I have been told. May I sit down?"

Reed gestured to the bed, and she sat on the edge of his bed.

"It must be lonely," she said "being down here without company."

She placed a hand on his thigh and twitched her antennae suggestively.

Reed didn't move and; he just looked down at her hand. When he didn't respond, she moved to pull it back but he grabbed her hand.

She smiled at him as he pulled her down.

***

T'Pol never cared for politics, so the three hour meeting of the Syrannite rebel council had tried her Vulcan patience. The council methodically went through each of its agenda items, which ranged from budget issues to demands they would make of Sato's government. Now that it was over, T'Pol simply wanted to get out of the dusty old council chambers and out into the fresh air. Although she was accustomed to life on a starship, she wanted to enjoy being planetside while she could.

As she exited to the back garden, she saw the Vulcan was high in the sky, and the sun had set. It was a breathtaking sight to her home planet rise above the plains of T'Khut's eastern continent.

She heard footsteps behind her. She turned around expecting to see T'Les but instead saw T'Pau - the young woman who had risen to become the spiritual leader of the Syrannites. T'Pol knew her mother had developed a strong loyalty to this woman, and T'Pol also sensed the woman's devotion to logic was absolute. Almost to the point of coldness. During her time among other races T'Pol had learned that logic, while useful most of the time, did not hold the answer to every question — especially when one was dealing with races that did not behave logically.

The two women nodded succinctly to one another.

"I have not had a chance to express how agreeable it is that you have taken command of _The Selok_," she said.

"It was the logical choice," said T'Pol.

"T'Les feared you wouldn't see it as such," said T'Pau, "but your experience at dealing with other races, including humans, will make you a strong leader. Most Vulcans have difficulty interacting with non-Vulcans."

T'Pol nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the truth.

"The Terrans are looking for your chief engineer, who is also your mate," said T'Pau.

T'Pol nodded again. She had expected T'Pau to bring up her unusual personal life.

"We cannot afford for you to be harmed by a separation, so we cannot allow him to return to Earth. The Empress is offering incentives for his return. How confident are you that he will remain with you by choice?"

T'Pol's mind wandered back to when she last saw Tucker, and they had both been content.

_They had both dressed, and she was ready to leave for the surface. Tucker stood in the center of the room, looking at her. Her mind no longer awash in his anger and resentment, she experienced a sense of relief and pleasure akin to the abrupt cessation of physical pain. His affection served as a balm for the emotional turmoil created by their bond, and she did not wish to be separated from him. He approached her, and he leaned over and kissed her goodbye on the cheek. _

_"I'll miss you," he said, "Take care of yourself." _

_"Our separation will be short, and I look forward to my return." _

_With that she turned and left him.  
_

The Empire held nothing but danger for both of them. Life on _The Selok _wouldn't be without its risks, but T'Pol couldn't think of anything that Sato could offer that would lure Tucker back.

"He is content with me, and he fears the instability of the current regime. It is logical for him to remain among us."

T'Pau nodded.

"That is agreeable news. It will be better all around if he stays with you by his own choice."

T'Pau's face was a mask, but T'Pol's instincts told her she was holding back information. Not that that wasn't typical of a politician, but she made a mental note of it.

***

Tucker yawned as he headed back to his quarters after a long shift. Usually, he had a lot to look forward to when he got home, but with T'Pol on the surface, all that awaited him was a hot shower and warm bed. Not that he wouldn't enjoy those two things.

His communicator chirped.

"Tucker here," he said, assuming Kov needed something. Kov was one of the only Vulcans who hadn't gone to the surface.

"It's Phlox. You need to come to sickbay, immediately."

Tucker sighed. Just what he needed. Phlox probably found some weird spot on his neural scans that portended a quick death or something. Tucker turned around and headed for the lift.

When he arrived at sickbay, Liz Cutler of all people met him at the door.

"I thought you weren't working here anymore," said Tucker, who would have happily throttled Phlox if he had done anything to Cutler.

"I had to come. I was down on the lower decks when the guards found her," said Liz.

"Who?" said Tucker.

Liz led him to the biobed where Talas lay, unconscious. Big white bruises were visible on her neck and collarbone. One of her antennae had been snapped in half.

"What happened?" asked Tucker.

"Reed happened. He did this to her and killed the guard that was at his door. One of the escape pods is gone."

_Damn_, thought tucker, and Talas was their chief of security. How the hell had she let this happen? He didn't know her well, but she didn't strike him as someone who would be easy to mess with. Tucker turned to Phlox, who was busy in the corner.

"How is she?"

"Reed left her for dead, but Andorian physiology is different from human. She was merely in a coma. She's still in a coma. I don't know when she'll awaken."

Tucker glanced over at Cutler, and then back at poor Talas. The broken antennae didn't look like it felt good.

"Is she on pain meds?" asked Tucker.

"Some," said Phlox, "I'll give her more if and when she regains consciousness."

Liz looked at him.

"There's more. With all the Vulcans on the surface and Talas out of commission, you're the highest ranking person on the ship."

Tucker rolled his eyes. The motley crew of aliens left were hardly going to be pleased at taking any kind of an order from a human.

"Isn't there someone that the aliens will like better, at least until T'Pol gets back?"

Liz shook her head.

"They all say they prefer you over Kov. They think Kov is too soft, and with Reed at large they don't want someone soft in the Captain's chair. Some of Talas's men want to talk to you about trying to track Reed.

Tucker nodded. Communications between _The Selok_ and the surface were to be kept at a minimum because even though they were scrambled and encrypted, Terran ships might wonder why a communication signal was emitting from empty space above T'Khut. However, Tucker knew a few tricks that could make a short message look like random space noise. He could get a message to T'Pol. He had to. The Vulcans needed to know Reed was on the loose.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R for violence and sexual assault. _

**Chapter 13**

Elizabeth Tucker was lying on the floor of her palace bedroom in an awkward position. Her head was beneath the bed, and her legs stuck out. Her arm stretched back to the wall behind the headboard, and she had popped open a maintenance panel. It had been a great stroke of luck that this particularly panel was hidden by the bed so that the surveillance system couldn't see what she was up to.

"What are you doing?" asked Jonathan Archer, whose booted feet she saw to her left.

"I dropped an earring," she said loudly.

Elizabeth stared at the blinking lights. Turning off the system would just get the attention of the security guards. Thankfully, the engineers who designed the system had included a secret way to circumvent the system without disabling it — one only people intimately familiar with the design knew about. It was a perk of her job that she had the know-how, though she never thought she'd have use for her knowledge.

If she put in the right series of codes, the computer would seamlessly substitute video of her sleeping that had been previously recorded during times when she didn't want to be watched. She just had to give the computer some footage to work with that would fool the guards and the Empress. She punched in the codes and replaced the panel.

The system would need about twenty minutes of video during which she and her guest appeared to be sleeping. Then, it would loop that through the rest of the night so she would have some privacy.

For days, she had played dumb when the Empress hinted she should take one of the male slaves back to her room for the night. This night, Sato seemed to have lost patience. She snickered and asked her if she'd rather take one of the females back to her room instead and then pouted that Elizabeth was being ungrateful, having been offered the use of the imperial slaves for her pleasure. Elizabeth was 99 percent sure the kinky Empress be watching through the surveillance system, which is why she had such a keen interest in Elizabeth's sexual satisfaction. Footage of her and Archer just sleeping wouldn't satisfy the Empress forever, but it might buy Elizabeth some time. Once the security system wasn't active, she had some questions to ask Archer.

"It could be worse," she kept saying to herself, reminding herself she was lucky she hadn't been raped or tortured already.

Elizabeth had always considered herself fortunate. The Tuckers didn't exactly sit at the seat of Imperial power, but they were local gentry, and her father had had enough money and influence to see that his three children were sent to the best schools and insulated from some of the world's harsher realties. Elizabeth had gotten all the way through school and beyond without ever having been seriously molested in any way, something she knew was rare.

Once, when she had stayed late after school for swim practice, an older boy who came from a family far more influential than the Tuckers had grabbed her pulled her into empty locker room.

_Elizabeth tried to kick Billy Dunn as he dragged her across the tile by her feet. The knockdown had come so quickly, Elizabeth didn't even have time to pull any of her self defense tricks on him or even scream. She knew she'd have bruises on her knees and face in the morning. It was dark in the locker room since it was after hours, and the sounds of their struggle echoed ominously. _

_Elizabeth sighed as she felt Billy's hands start grabbing at the clasp of her pants. _

_Why should I be so different from the other girls? I'm not special. This happens to everyone. _

_She just hoped it wouldn't take too long or hurt too much. Suddenly, she heard Billy make a strange noise. He let go of her. _

_She turned around to see her brothers Trip and Bert pulling Billy to his feet. __Bert held Billy as Trip punched him first in the stomach and then in the face. Blood started coming from Billy's mouth. _

"_Did you think you could touch our sister?" drawled Bert as Trip landed another blow. _

"_Nobody touches our sister," spat Trip. _

_Trip turned Billy around so that Bert could take his shots. Being queer, Bert had been mercilessly picked on as a boy. He eventually joined a rough crowd and learned to fight dirty. His blows hit harder than Trip's. _

_Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. As relieved as she was, this wasn't good. Billy's attack on her would be a matter of he said/she said, and Billy's family had a lot of pull. Trip and Bert could get in loads of trouble for this. She also weirdly felt sorry for Billy, seeing him getting so badly thrashed. _

"_Guys, stop. . ." she said, "You'll get in trouble. He'll say that the attack on me never happened." _

_Bert laughed, and he had a scary glint in his eyes. It gave Elizabeth a chill. Billy had collapsed in a heap on the floor, barely conscious. _

"_No worries," replied Bert, "I've got a plan." _

_Lizzie looked at Trip who suddenly appeared as confused as she did. Bert grabbed his communicator and sent a text. A few minutes later three of Bert's friends, including his boyfriend, strolled in the locker room. Bert's boyfriend kissed him on the cheek as if it was completely normal that a bloodied human was sprawled on the floor at their feet._

_Bert turned to Trip. _

"_Get her home. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone." _

_Trip moved over to where Bert stood._

"_Bert, Dunn's family . . ." _

"_Won't want to see the pictures we're going to take, and I'm sure Billy will keep his mouth shut to keep his family and the admissions officers at all the top colleges from seeing them. And don't worry. We know how to pose him so it will look completely consensual." _

_Elizabeth's stomach turned, and she caught Trip's eye. They both knew Bert had a dark side, but this was over the line. Trip nodded to their brother, and then he came and took her arm._

"_Let's go, Lizzie," he said softly. _

_As they ran down the halls and out the door, Elizabeth spoke._

"_I don't care what he was gonna to do to me, Trip. Two wrongs don't make a right." _

_Trip shook his head._

"_Not in this world, kiddo. We should both be grateful that Bert has our backs. And I seriously doubt Dunn is ever going to try and touch you again." _

_They stopped running when they reached a bike trail that led to their house. They started walking, in silence. _

Elizabeth wiggled out from under the bed and got to her feet. Jonathan Archer was standing there staring at her, blankly.

"I've got orders for you now," she whispered.

He grinned at that, and she rolled her eyes. He was going to be disappointed.

"Take off your shoes and lie down. Make sure you're under the covers," she said.

He was really smiling now and did as he was told. Elizabeth bit her lip and wondered what it would have been like if her last dickhead boyfriend had been that accommodating.

She kicked off her shoes and joined him. She expected him to cop a feel or try something, but he didn't. He was just waiting. Sato had apparently trained him well.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear. She knew how low to keep her voice so the bugs wouldn't pick up the conversation. Maybe she'd get lucky and Sato would assume they were doing more than whispering under the covers.

"Here's what we are gonna to do. We're gonna to play a game. We're gonna to pretend to sleep for twenty minutes," she said.

He nodded.

"I want you to take me in your arms and close your eyes like you're sleeping. I'll be pretending, too."

"Yes, Ms. Tucker."

She threw off the covers and snuggled up to him.

"Really, you can call me Elizabeth, it's fine."

She listened to his heart beat and closed her eyes.

_Twenty minutes_, she thought.

***

Tucker glared at Phlox over the bed.

"I'd just as soon get back to engineering where I belong," he drawled, "but I don't want Talas back on duty until she's ready. Whatever she might have said to you."

Phlox glared right back.

"Are you questioning my medical ethics?"

Tucker folded his arms.

"That would only be possible if you had any," replied Tucker.

He hated being in command of the ship. It wasn't just a hassle, it was awkward given his species and the fact that he'd only been on the ship for a few weeks. The only reason he _was_ in command was because not one of the crew still on board had any formal training in command. It was no wonder Mama T'Les thought it was logical to bust T'Pol out of the clink. She was needed. Hell, _he_ needed her. He couldn't wait for her nightly call from the surface.

He turned to Talas. Her antenna was bandaged, but white bruises still marred her neck, arms and face. Reed had sure done a number on her.

"Don't be impatient," he said to her, "This ship needs you in top condition. Not a half-well version of you."

"I don't deserve to rest, not after how stupid I was. . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Nonesense," spat Tucker, "How were you supposed to tell Reed from any other Terran? We're all pretty screwed up. He just happens to be fucking crazy on top of it. Although, the politeness should have tipped you off. Most humans are never that polite to aliens."

Talas actually laughed at that, and that made Tucker feel better. She had looked like absolute hell when they had found her. He was amazed she was sitting up and talking.

"I promise that if I need you're help, I'll ask," he said as he turned to exit.

***

T'Pol moved swiftly down the stairs of the meeting hall and into the street. Her rooms were only a block away, and she wished to get there as soon as possible. A communication link had been set up so she could speak to Charles about Talas's condition. At last report, the Andorian woman had awakened but was still too weak to resume command. As for Reed's whereabouts, that matter had been turned over to T'Pau's security forces. They had tracked him to the lower continent on Vulcan, which was an ominous development given that the Romulan compound was located there. T'Pol remembered well Reed's interest in the Romulans. T'Les had notified her contacts there to be wary of Reed, but the very traits the Vulcans found disconcerting would be ones that their cousins might very well embrace.

After nearly a week of meetings, T'Pol had had enough. Her ship needed her, and she wanted to get back to her mission of helping the various species suffering under the Empire's rule. Although some of what she had learned on the surface was important, she was no politician and no philosopher. Her mother may have enjoyed T'Pau's intellectualized dissections of every last passage of T_he Teachings of Surak_, but T'Pol was not so inclined. After graduating from the Science Academy, she'd first been an intelligence agent and then a Starfleet officer. Neither were career choices that indicated an inclination for philosophical debate. Yet, her mother felt it necessary to include her in all these sessions.

She wished to return to her ship, and she _had_ come to think of it as her ship. She had only been her captain a short time, but she already found her day to day duties comforting. Her mother had apparently been right about her suitability for command.

The situation with Charles was more complicated, but to her surprise, she missed him. He was her mate, and they seemed to have come to an understanding despite the unusual nature of their bond.

Being on the surface had given her a respite from the emotions he bombarded her with, but she craved his company. She not only longed for his physical attentions, but she missed the nightly discussions of ship's business that were peppered with stories of his life in Florida. He also asked her questions about her own childhood, and her life before Starfleet. That life had been very lonely, with few friends. After she had joined Starfleet, she had had no friends. Vulcans frowned on personal friendship, but it was encouraged to develop affection for one's mate. These conversations had helped her do that, as had her neural pressure treatments for his pain. She wondered briefly if his pain had returned or if he had suffered from any withdrawal symptoms during her absence. She needed to speak to him about that.

She had also been surprised that her alien crew had little objection to her human mate. But T'Les had told her that more than a few humans had joined the rebel cause, and that most of the crew had known and worked with humans. Since the Syrannite goal was union with the Empire, they could hardly harbor the extreme resentment toward Terrans that some other rebel groups had. Since T'Pol had spent so many years living among humans, it shocked few that she had taken a human mate. Moreover, the crew was happy to have such a talented engineer in charge of the powerful Romulan Warp Drive. Apparently, there had been a ship's betting pool in which people took bets on when Kov would cause himself and others injury. Charles's presence in engineering had been welcome. Now, thanks to Talas's folly, he had taken charge of the ship.

Had she not been so concerned with Talas's condition and Reed's escape, she would have found the situation amusing.

She heard footsteps behind her, and soon Tolaris was walking at her side.

"Good evening, Captain," he said.

"Good evening," she replied.

"I would like you too meet a friend of mine," said Tolaris, "He is considering joining the rebellion. He wishes to hear your thoughts on the potential success of T'Pau's agenda."

T'Pol nodded.

"Take me to him," she replied.

They walked together to the boarding house, and she was mildly surprised when Tolaris led her to his room. This new recruit obviously wished to be discreet.

As they entered his room, she saw one of the Master Syrranites to whom she had been introduced earlier in the week. He was a large man with greying hair, big hands and dark eyes. He lifted his hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. She responded in kind.

"Tolaris tells me you wish to sever your matebond," said the man.

T'Pol stepped backwards, and she shot a furious look at her first officer.

"That is untrue."

The priest looked at Tolaris,

"You have been deceptive, Tolaris," he said, "I can only perform the procedure if she consents."

"She's been brainwashed," said Tolaris coldly, "It doesn't make her any less a prisoner. She has a right to be free."

T'Pol took another step back, but Tolaris grabbed her arm. The priest stepped forward.

"I am free," said T'Pol.

"Tolaris tells me you didn't intend for this bond to form," said the priest.

"That is true," replied T'Pol, "I did not know that such a bond could form with a human, but I am content with my mate."

The priest nodded. T'Pol had a brief thought that she needed to check on Talas's condition, since she had just been promoted to first officer.

"Let us leave, T'Pol," said the priest, "I will escort you back to your room."

He approached T'Pol but collapsed as Tolaris's phaser stun hit him. T'Pol felt pressure on her neck and was looking into Tolaris's eyes as she too lost consciousness.

"This is the only logical course, T'Pol," she heard him say.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One._

_Rating: PG-13_

_

* * *

_Elizabeth's eyes flew open, and she immediately realized she had been asleep for far longer than twenty minutes. It was still dark outside, and she felt Jonathan Archer's arms around her. She gently wriggled herself free and stood up.

_Damn_, she thought, regretful that she had wasted several hours of privacy on sleep.

The chronometer indicated it was past three in the morning. That meant she only had a few hours until sunrise, when the surveillance system would be fully operational again.

She paced for awhile, looking down at the sleeping man in her bed. She had questions for him, and she was probably going to have to wake him.

Elizabeth looked out the window, although she could see little in the darkness. The drop to the bay below was long and steep. There was no escape there. Besides, even if she managed to escape the palace, she would have no place to go.

On the other hand, she hated the idea of being used to manipulate Trip. If he was alive, he might very well be staying away from Earth for a reason. She knew her brother well enough to know that he would find being under Sato's thumb insufferable. If fact, she would not have been shocked to learn that Trip's abduction had been an escape of his own making. While her brother Bert always survived by physical force, Trip was far more likely to use his considerable smarts to get out of jams.

Trip _was_ an engineering genius, a fact which had apparently kept him alive during the series of coups that had led to the death of Captain Forrest and to Archer's unfortunate position. Lizzie smiled to herself, pride temporarily overcoming her sadness and fear. Trip was a valuable asset, and he knew it. She knew it. Sato knew it. No matter what happened to her, Sato wasn't going to hurt Trip. Whoever ruled the Empire needed _The Defiant_. And whoever had _The Defiant_ needed Trip.

But Lizzie did not want to be the pawn with which to manipulate her brother. She looked at the sealed window of her room. It wouldn't be hard to bust open the pane and throw herself down on the rocks, if it came to that. She didn't want it to come to that, but she'd be damned if she'd be the cause of more pain for her brother. Life hadn't been easy for any of them, but since his accident Trip had been so morose and withdrawn. She'd been worried about him for years and the last thing she wanted was him to become a Sato's defacto slave, as she had become.

_Although_, she thought glancing over at the man sleeping in her bed, _it's better than being her actual slave. _

More importantly, Elizabeth had come to realize that whatever Sato needed Trip to do with _The Defiant_'s technology — The Empress wanted it badly enough that Lizzie did not want her to have it. Sato may have talked a good game about reconciliation and stabilization, but the number of recent disappearances and arrests coupled with the woman's own loony behavior said otherwise.

Elizabeth knelt next to the bed and began to gently shake Jonathan Archer awake. He grabbed her hand suddenly and clutched it tightly.

"I need to talk to you," she said in a whisper, "I've disabled the surveillance system so we can speak freely for the next couple hours."

He sat up, still gripping her hand.

"She watches all the time. Everyone knows that. How'd you know how to stop that?"

Lizzie looked to see if his expression changed at all, now that he knew he wasn't being watched. She didn't see any change.

"I'm an architect. We install surveillance systems in almost every building we design. You learn their weaknesses that way."

He was still holding her hand, still gripping hard.

"You're Jonathan Archer," she said.

"I think so," he said, "I don't remember much about before."

"Sato's only been Empress for five months," whispered Elizabeth, "You can't remember before five months ago?"

"I woke up in the booth. . .you know what that is?"

She nodded.

"I lost track of time. In between the booth, they gave me drugs. She said she only wanted me to remember that I owed her my life. Before. . .it's just images."

Elizabeth nodded. Although Trip had given scant details in his letters, she had pieced together what had happened. She quickly told the man who he had been before and why Sato hated him so much.

"She wants me to help her find my brother. Charles Tucker. Do you remember him?"

Archer closed his eyes.

"He has scars on his face," he replied.

"Yes," said Lizzie, "He's an engineer. You worked closely with him."

Archer did not reply, but he nodded.

"She wants him to work on_ The Defiant_," said Lizzie, "Do you remember that ship? The one from the future?"

"It was _my_ ship."

Lizzie smiled at that.

"For a short time," she replied.

Archer sighed, and she felt a little sorry for him before reminding herself that more than a few people met their deaths at his hands. That fact coupled with his good reason to hate Sato, of course, made him someone who could be of great value to her. If she could help snap him out of his fog.

"Well," said Lizzie softly, "we've got some time to talk. Maybe I can help you remember more of who you were."

****

Tucker walked arm-in-arm with Talas to her quarters.

"Really," she said, "I'm in no danger of falling over. I just need a couple more days of rest, and I'll be good as new."

They reached the door of her quarters, and she opened the door.

"Can't happen soon enough for me, darlin'" he said, "I hate the big chair. Never wanted it on a Terran ship. Never wanted it here. I'm pretty furious at Reed for putting me there, if you must know."

Her face blushed white.

"They better catch him soon or I'm heading down to Vulcan to find him myself. Whatever the V'Shar has in store for him, I'm sure what I've got in mind is worse."

Tucker snickered at that. He liked the idea of Reed getting a taste of his own bitter medicine. Talas reached up and caressed his face. Her antennae twitched.

"Phlox told me I'd have better luck with you," she said, "but I was a fool and chose Reed. Thought he would be a challenge."

She rolled her eyes.

"You weren't wrong there," he said.

"So," she said, "care to come in so I can finally find out if the _good_ things I hear about Terrans are true?"

Tucker bit his lip, but he couldn't hold back the smile. Andorian women weren't know known for there shyness. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Sorry, Beautiful, but I'm a married man."

She pouted at that.

"It may not mean anything to Andorians," he continued, "but it means something to me. And it sure as hell means something to my Vulcan wife, who incidentally knows more than one way to kill a human with her bare hands. And she is _your_ boss. Remember?"

Talas sighed.

"She's a lucky woman," Talas replied as she strode into her quarters, "I hope she realizes just how lucky."

"If I weren't married, Talas, you can bet I'd be taking you up on your offer," he responded as the door shut behind her.

As he headed back to his empty quarters, Tucker felt a little dizzy and a bit of anxiety creep forth into his mind. It had been a long day, and he needed rest. He was missing those neural pressure treatments, even so far as going through a kind of withdrawal from them. Or maybe he was just worried T'Pol would sense that he was flirting with Talas. He figured he'd better get to bed.

***

Consciousness returned slowly, and T'Pol carefully opened her eyes. She was sitting in a chair, and when she tried to move, she found that her hands were bound behind her back and her feet strapped to chair legs. She pulled gently, and then harder.

T'Pol quickly realized she couldn't break the restraints that bound her hands and feet, so she did not struggle and waste strength. She looked around and saw Tolaris sitting at a table in the corner. They were no longer in his room at the boarding house, but rather in a basement of some kind. She suspected it was the basement of the boarding house, since it was illogical to assume he would have been able to take her very far without being seen.

He noticed she had awakened and stood up.

"How do you feel? You hit the ground harder than I would have liked. I hope you aren't bruised," he said.

"You could have avoided bruising me if you had not nerve pinched me," she said cooly.

He pulled a chair near to where she sat.

"I couldn't do that," he said, "I had to help you, even if your mind is too far gone to understand the situation you are in."

T'Pol closed her eyes and inhaled the stale air. She simply needed to appeal to Tolaris's reason. His motives were good; he was just misguided.

"I recognize that you mean well, Tolaris," she said, "and I am appreciative. However, severing that bond will pose a danger to me that I feel is illogical given my value to the rebel cause."

Tolars brushed her long hair from her face, and she cringed.

"T'Pol," said Tolaris, "You don't have to live with this humiliation. You deserve better. You deserve a mate that respects who you are."

T'Pol closed her eyes, hoping that Charles would sense her distress. She was too agitated to enter her white space to try and communicate with him directly. She also hoped to keep Tolaris talking as long as she could. There was a small possibility she might dissuade him from his course, but even if she could not, any delay made it more likely Charles would send help.

"Without the priest, how will you sever the bond?" she asked, knowing the answer.

Tolaris looked out the window.

"I have training in mind melds. I can do it myself."

T'Pol found it necessary to suppress a jolt of fear. She had been trained in melding as well, and she had nearly killed Charles when she forced one on him. She planned to resist much harder than he had, and that meant she would suffer more. But she had to resist in order to protect her mate.

"It won't be pleasant," said Tolaris, "but you should survive the process."

"What about Charles?" she asked, again knowing well what the answer would be.

When Tolaris said nothing, she spoke again.

"Say it," she said, "Say what you plan to do to him."

"He's a Terran," said Tolaris, "The fewer Terrans that exist, the better."

"Not all Terrans are alike," said T'Pol, "Just as all Vulcans are not alike."

He paused at her words, and he seemed to consider them.

"This perverse bond is clouding your logic, T'Pol," said Tolaris, "It's exposing you to emotions no Vulcan should have to endure. Trust me. You'll be much better off when you're free."

T'Pol took a deep breath.

"I am thirsty," she said.

"I'll get you water."

"I prefer tea. It will relax me for the meld," she said.

Tolaris looked at her suspiciously, but he headed toward the door.

"I will bring you tea, if only to show you that I am concerned for your welfare. After that, we shall begin."

T'Pol closed her eyes, hoping she would have enough time and discipline to enter her white space.

***

T'Les sat at her desk, reading a message from her son-in-law when the door chime rang. She surmised it must be T'Pol, since she was set to return to her ship the next day, and they had not had a chance to say goodbye.

"Come in," she said.

Instead of her daughter, Lady T'Pau strode into her room. T'Les stood up and bowed. T'Pau almost never visited anyone in their quarters, instead she received visitors in her own outer chambers.

"Good evening," said T'Pau.

"Good evening," replied T'Les.

"I came to discuss some points of the upcoming negotiations," said T'Pau.

T'Les was taken aback, as she was unsure what points could not have been shared with other members of the council.

"As you know," she said, "Empress Sato is holding Elizabeth Tucker as a hostage."

T'Les nodded. This was an indication of how badly Sato wanted her hands on Tucker, and consequently how important it was for him to be kept from her.

"Yes," she replied, "We agreed it would be illogical to inform either T'Pol or Mr. Tucker of this. It would only cause them unnecessary distress, given that he cannot be allowed to return to the Empire."

T'Pau looked at the window. Vulcan appeared as a big, red orb in the sky.

"If negotiations become difficult," replied T'Pau, "I'm going to offer to transfer custody of Mr. Tucker to Sato."

T'Les suppressed shock, among other emotions.

"He cannot be separated from my daughter, and the Empire views her as a criminal fugitive."

T'Pau did not look T'Les in the eye.

"Empress Sato will be informed that to physically harm her or separate her from him will make him useless for her purposes. This should protect T'Pol. We will demand immunity for her, so they will be able to reside together."

T'Les stepped forward, the wheels of her mind spinning the most logical argument she could devise. Sato wouldn't have to harm either of them physically to make their lives very difficult. They'd be virtual slaves. She especially did not want to turn her daughter over to the Empire, but she also found the notion of turning over her son-in-law objectionable, and not only because it would have a negative effect on T'Pol.

"With better access to _The Defiant_'s technology, Sato may not find it as necessary to make concessions," she said.

"We would only offer up Mr. Tucker if our conditions were met," replied T'Pau, "and if Vulcan were part of the Empire, access to the technology would only benefit all our people."

T'Les inhaled. She couldn't appear selfish, as that would give T'Pau an advantage in the argument. She would need to think on this before continuing. Negotiations were likely months away, and she would need all that time to formulate a properly logical argument.

"It may not become necessary to turn them over," said T'Pau, "but I believed you should be prepared for the possibility."

T'Les nodded. She had one move she could use to endear Tucker to T'Pau, and that would hopefully be helpful to her cause.

"Speaking of my son-in-law," she said, "I've received a message from him with information you might find useful."

T'Pau raised her eyebrow.

"It seems Mr. Reed was the commander of the death squad responsible for the massacre at The Forge."

T'Les hoped that Tucker's willingness to provide them such information might make T'Pau see him as something more than a bargaining piece. As expected, T'Pau's expression remained unchanged, but she was attempting to digest this news.

"Does he have proof of this?"

T'Les shook her head.

"However, he said that the doctor, Phlox, can provide corroborating testimony. He treated Reed and his soldiers' wounds when they returned. Phlox does not have his medical records, but he can attest that several of the soldiers bragged about the incident."

T'Paul turned toward the door.

"Thank your son-in-law for this information," she said as she exited.

When she was alone T'Les took a deep breath, knowing she would need extra time to meditate.

***

Tucker was lying in bed, in the near meditative state that existed between consciousness and sleep. Suddenly, he found himself in a white room. T'Pol was standing there in her Vulcan robes. She looked terrified, which terrified him.

He reached out and hugged her. She felt real enough, warm and soft, but she was trembling.

"Are you okay?"

"No," she whispered, "Tolaris is going to try and sever the bond. He has me in restraints, and I cannot physically fight him. I will fight mentally, but the process will kill you if he succeeds. I doubt I will survive, either, despite what he says."

Rage boiled up inside him, mixing with the fear he already felt. He had never liked that weasel, and he had recently begun to hate his guts. Now all his instincts were confirmed.

"I suspect I am in the basement of the boarding house where we were lodged. I am unsure, however. He nerve pinched me, and so I could not have been unconscious very long."

He pulled her tighter in a hug.

"Use all your concentration to fight when he begins. I will use all of mine," she said.

Tucker felt her pull away from his embrace. He reluctantly let go.

"I don't want him to know that I have contacted you. He's only gone to get tea. He'll be back soon. I must go."

Her words were like a knife in his gut, but he nodded at her.

"Fight him, T'Pol," he said, "Not just for me, but for yourself."

"I promise I will," she said, and suddenly he was in his bed again, alone.


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 _

_Rating: PG-13_

**Chapter Fifteen **

Elizabeth Tucker sat crossed legged on the floor, reading an ancient, paper book. The pages were yellowed but had been treated with a compound so that the oils on her hands would do no further damage to them. Sato had had the book shipped all the way from the Bodleian Library in Oxford England just so Lizzie could read the best, early English translation. Sato had her own copy in the original language, shipped from China.

"So, what do you think of our friend Lao-Tze?" asked Sato.

Lizzie thought carefully. Sato liked to be told what she wanted to hear, but she didn't like it if she suspected someone was deliberately telling her what she wanted to hear.

"His philosophy has merit, but I believe that Mr. Machiavelli might offer a more pragmatic approach, especially considering your situation, Hoshi."

"Remind me to teach you Italian, by the way," replied Sato, "You've no doubt missed some of the nuance with the English translation I got you."

Lizzie sighed. She looked down at herself. She was dressed in head to toe black, but she wore a long red and orange scarf tied around her neck to indicate that she wasn't a slave, since slaves were not permitted any color. Sato had been mildly annoyed by Lizzie's black, body covering sartorial choice — well-tailored pants and a sweater — but at least The Empress wasn't forcing her to wear the pink anymore.

A man appeared in the doorway. It was Peter Grayson, the chief of household. He carried with him a PADD which contained documents considered too sensitive for encrypted transfer. Mr. Grayson was in his forties, and he was one of the few holdovers from the earlier regime. He ran the household and, Lizzie suspected, knew everything that was worth knowing. He was another person she wouldn't mind having a private chat with, if she could somehow make that happen.

Sato dismissed Grayson and looked at the PADD. She read for a long while before getting to her feet and approaching Elizabeth.

"We know your brother's whereabouts," she said.

Relief washed over Lizzie. Trip was alive. She could tell from Sato's tone.

"Well, we sort of know. He's been taken in by a group of Syrannite Vulcan rebels and is serving as an engineer on one of their ships. These Syrannites think they can get control of Vulcan for me. In return, they want to join the empire as equal partners."

Lizzie nodded. Unlike many Terrans, she followed off world politics closely. The Syrannites were considered the most reasonable of the Vulcan rebel factions and so they were likely to be treating Trip well. She racked her brain for other bits of knowledge about this group. She thought she remembered reading that recently a leader had rose that many Vulcans believed could deliver them from oppression.

What was her name. . T'Po? T'Pau. That was it. Lizzie had seen a picture, though the woman was not in the custody of the Empire.

"There are rumors of a Romulan compound on Vulcan proper," continued Sato, "Most Vulcans are afraid of the Romulans despite being willing to take their aid when it suits them. The Vulcans don't want to be conquered by them because they're afraid their cousins will ban the teachings of Surak. So, people are starting to follow this woman, T'Pau. I think I might make this turn of events work for me."

Lizzie looked over at Sato. Was Trip on his way back to Earth?

"How is Tri. . .How is my brother?" asked Lizzie, as casually.

Sato tossed a PADD onto the low table that was in front of them.

"All we know is that he's on this Vulcan ship and he hasn't been told that you are my guest," sighed Sato.

_Hostage. The word is hostage, _thought Lizzie.

"My guess is that they will tell him when they think it's logical to do so," continued the Empress as she made mocking "air quotes" over the word _logical_.

Lizzie had never met a Vulcan before, although she had seen a couple of them around the palace. They seemed like very aloof people, but they didn't seem cruel or sadistic like some people said. She hoped that the Vulcans holding Trip were at least treating him fairly. It couldn't be easy for him, but at least Lizzie knew he was being fed and clothed and otherwise taken care of.

"No doubt he's with T'Pol," snickered Sato, "I'm sure she's having him service more than the ship's engines."

Lizzie furrowed her brow a little. T'Pol was the Vulcan Starfleet officer that had been taken from the brig of _The Defiant_ along with Trip. Sato's salacious implication was pretty clear, and Lizzie cringed as it sunk in. It was hard enough to think of her brother involved with anyone, let alone a Vulcan. Surely Trip wouldn't be so stupid as to involve himself with an alien woman? If so, their parents wouldn't ever let him step inside the family home again, that was for sure.

On the other hand, maybe that alone made Trip smarter than she gave him credit for. Holidays at the Tucker compound weren't exactly cheery.

Sato must have guessed what she was thinking. She grinned and then laughed.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" she said sweetly, "Your brother had quite the reputation on _Enterprise_. Went for the alien girls. Andorians, Orions. . .even the Vulcan had her shot at him. I saw footage, and let me tell you she enjoyed herself. It goes on for hours and hours, if you get my meaning."

Lizzie clasped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes.

"Ewwwwwww," she drawled, "That's my brother you're talking about. It's gonna to take me hours to get that picture out of my head."

Lizzie froze. She had momentarily forgotten where she was and who she was talking to. She opened one of her eyes to see if Sato was angry at her reaction. She wasn't. She threw herself back on the pile of pillows and began to laugh.

"Sorry," giggled Sato, "I don't have any siblings. I suppose the idea of your brother and anyone would be kind of gross. But truthfully, I'll bet T'Pol is on that ship and she's the reason your brother hasn't escaped."

She used the air quotes around the word _escape_. Sato sat up and looked straight at Lizzie.

"He was _really_ into her," she said.

To Lizzie's further horror, she detected a hint of jealously in Sato's voice.

_Have to change subject. Have to change subject,_ thought Lizzie.

"Maybe you can have your chief urban planner come by again? I love to see his plans "

Sato scooted over closer to her. Clearly, her mind was still on matters other than architecture.

"Of course you can talk to the planner," said Sato, "I'll summon him tomorrow. It's just that I'm worried about you Lizzie. You've had Jonathan in your room a few times now, but . . .he tells me that all you do is sleep."

_He tells you nothing_, thought Lizzie, _you're getting your info from the security vids._

Sato ghosted her fingers over Lizzie's lips.

"You've got beautiful red lips," said Sato, "and even though you insist on dressing like a nun, you've got a gorgeous body under those clothes. It would be a shame for you not to make use of your assets. If Jon doesn't do it for you, you can have your pick. . . .male slaves. female slaves. . . .Or are you into aliens like your brother? I could send an Andorian male . . .I hear they're like jackhammers."

A chill ran down Lizzie's back. Just a rumor of alien sex could be deadly for a human woman.

"No," replied Lizzie, "I've grown. . .attached to Jon. It's just I'm a romantic. I like to get to know someone before. . .you know."

Sato rolled her eyes.

"But I've been. . .well, I'll keep him," whispered Lizzie, "Please let me keep him."

Sato folded his arms.

"Okay," she said, "but he's very talented. If you don't make use of him, I'm going to have to take him back. Travis will be on _The Defiant_ for the next few days. . ."

Lizzie took a deep breath.

"No," she said, "That won't be necessary. Besides, have you seen that guy from Brazil? The new slave? I think he likes you. . ."

***

T'Les heard a knock on the door. She again assumed it was her daughter come to say goodbye. Instead, she saw one of T'Pau's security guards at the door. She was tall, severe-looking even for a Vulcan, and she strode into T'Les's room without asking for permission.

"T'Pau has been given some alarming news," said the woman in a monotone voice.

T'Les nodded, knowing something had happened to T'Pol.

"Tolaris approached Valrick this afternoon claiming that T'Pol wished to sever her mating bond. Tolaris brought T'Pol to his rooms, where Valrick had agreed to wait for her. She informed him that Tolaris's claim was not the truth. When Valrick refused to perform the meld, Tolaris stunned him. When he awoke, the two were gone. T'Pol has not answered attempts to communicate with her. We believe Tolaris will attempt to sever the bond himself. Valrick said he seemed set on his course, guided by a belief it was for T'Pol's own good."

T'Les took a deep breath. Emotions would not help her find her daughter, who was in grave danger. She needed to contact Mr. Tucker immediately, not only to alert him of T'Pol's situation but his own grave danger.

"They cannot be far," said the officer, "We will find them."

_But will it be too late?_ thought T'Les as she approached her comm system.

"Please keep me advised of any developments," replied T'Les.

***

Talas and Tucker had transported down to the surface within eight minutes of T'Pol's contact with him. Talas had even taken a stimulant hypospray to guard against any lingering effects of her own injuries. She also gave Tucker a Romulan style disruptor, one that matched the one on her own hip.

"The nice thing about these babies," she said, "is that there's no stun setting."

The transporter had materialized them in a clearing, three blocks from the boarding house. As they hurried to where they thought T'Pol was being held, the various Vulcans they ran passed gave them curious looks. An Andorian and a human together, both heavily armed, was an unusual sight. His disfigurement and her bruises and bandaged antenna only caused further interest.

They strode into the boarding house. Talas removed her disruptor from its holster, but she didn't point it at the desk clerk.

"Where's the basement?" she asked sweetly.

The clerk clearly recognized the logic of answering the Andorian's question. He pointed to a stairwell just off the main room.

Tucker followed Talas down the stairs, where they found a locked door, but when she turned around she saw him on his knees in agony.

"Keep going," he choked, "They're in there."

She swore in her native language and turned her disruptor toward the lock. One blast, and there was no door, let alone lock. She strode in the room and saw Tolaris on his knees next to T'Pol, who had been tethered to a chair. Tolaris's hands were spread across her temples.

Talas lifted her disruptor, but it wasn't wise to shoot him while he was in physical contact with her. She suddenly wished she had a phaser with a stun setting. She nevertheless pointed her disruptor at Tolaris.

"Get your hands off her," she said calmly, but Tolaris did not turn around.

He didn't react at all. Talas heard footsteps behind her, but she chose not to turn around. Tolaris was acting alone, as far as she knew.

"You may put that weapon away, young woman," said a Vulcan voice.

She glanced backward to see a grey-haired priest.

"Tolaris cannot hear you," said Valrick as he walked around to approach Tolaris and T'Pol.

Valrick very calmly administered a nerve pinch to Tolaris, and he slumped to the floor.

"The terrans have a phrase," he said, "'Turnabout is fair play."

Talas pointed the disruptor at Tolaris, but Valrick gestured for her to put it away.

"That is unnecessary my dear," he said, "Tolaris will be dealt with I assure you."

Valrick then knelt and then spread his fingers on T'Pol's face. He stayed like that for a moment, and then he began to unfasten her bindings.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Valrick sighed.

"She has a strong mind. She will recover, but it will take time. She will be taken to a nearby monastery for treatment."

The priest gently lifted T'Pol to the ground as several security officers entered the room. The largest male lifted Tolaris over his shoulder and exited the room.

"Where are you taking him?" demanded Talas, who really wanted to shoot him.

"That is not your concern," replied Valrick.

"He nearly killed my captain. . .and the engineer of my ship. I'll say it's my concern," spat Talas, who suddenly remembered that she had left Tucker in distress.

She turned around and looked up the stairs to see that Tucker was seated on the stairs being tended to by another Vulcan priest. He looked semi-conscious but alive. Talas let out a breath of relief.

Another two Vulcans appeared with a stretcher. Under Valrick's supervision, they gently lifted T'Pol onto the stretcher.

"Lady T'Pau has requested you return to _The Selok_, Talas. The ship needs a strong commander."

Talas nodded.

"I want to talk to Tucker first. What are you going to do with him?"

Valrick stood with his hands behind his back and unequivocally met his gaze.

"As her mate, he will accompany her to the monastery. We will advise you on her condition."

Talas finally holstered her disruptor and headed toward Tucker, who was sitting on the stairs, rubbing his temple.

"She's alive," he said, "I can feel it."

"Valrick said she's going to be okay. She just needs to rest and heal. They're putting on a stretcher now. They want you to go with her."

"Where's Tolaris?"

"They've _taken_ him somewhere," she sneered, "but he was alive."

They locked eyes, both knowing that if either of them had their way, it wouldn't be that way.

***

Lizzie emerged from the bathroom wearing only her silk kimono. She looked around the room, her heart thumping in her chest. She knew exactly where the cameras and mics were.

If Sato wants a show, thought Lizzie ruefully, I'm going to see that she gets one.

In fact, Lizzie so feared losing contact with her only potential ally, she wanted to make certain the Empress so enjoyed the performance so much that she wouldn't dream of separating the two of them. It didn't matter whether Lizzie enjoyed it or not, it just had to _look_ like she did.

Archer was lying on the the bed, expectantly waiting for another one of their de-programming sessions. He had given up making advances at her and settled into their routine of sleep mixed with talking through his fragmented memories. They had developed innocuous-looking hand signals so that Lizzie could indicate whether they were being watched or not.

Lizzie sighed. She had no illusions about what kind of man Jonathan Archer had been before Sato had tortured him into madness. Despite that, she found that she had grown attached to him. He wasn't unattractive, either. If she had to pick among the various bed partners Sato had offered her, he was as good a choice as any.

She got down on the floor and slid under the bed. She programmed the system to give her a few minutes of privacy so she could explain. . .what needed to happen between them.

"Do you want to hear more about what I remember?"

Lizzie wiggled out from under the bed, discombobulating her robe in the process. She looked down and realized she was flashing him. Instinctively, she covered herself up and blushed.

He smiled at her, but he didn't look at her lasciviously or anything. It was almost as though he had come to enjoy just being able to rest and talk to her. He had said something about Sato tiring him out.

She crawled up on the bed next to him.

"I've only programmed it to give us a few minutes," she said, "She's said if I don't start to enjoy you, she's going to take you back."

Lizzie found herself making air quotes around the word _enjoy_. She also noticed what she thought was a tiny blush on Archer's cheeks.

"It's okay," she said reaching up and putting a hand on his face, "I knew I couldn't stall around forever. You know she likes to watch."

Archer smiled at that.

"Forrest didn't like that. Thought it was weird. I didn't mind so much," he replied, "She had the dirt on _everyone_."

"Yeah. Her kink would be useful for blackmail purposes. She likes power, that's for sure."

Archer leaned over and whispered in her ear, even though he knew they were still safe from being watched.

"She wanted to blackmail your brother, but everyone knew about him and alien women. So, I told her there was no point."

Lizzie's heart sank a little. Trip's life couldn't have been easy, between his disfiguring injuries and his weird romantic interests. No wonder he sought the company of a Vulcan, it was unlikely any human would even want to be seen with him."

"Sato was jealous of T'Pol. She showed me a vid of them, and she was seething. She thought Forrest liked T'Pol, but Sato didn't think T'Pol would enjoy sex the way she did so she felt safe. Then, she learned the truth. Then she tried to get with Tucker, but he turned her down. She was livid at that."

Lizzie had cringed at the mention of her brother and the Vulcan again but felt enormous relief that Trip had had the good sense to stay the hell out of Sato's bed. As far as Lizzie knew, Sato had three repeat lovers. Travis, who was her dim-witted lap dog. Forrest, who was dead. And Archer, whose brains she had had turned to mush. Trip probably was better off with the Vulcan.

"What's the Vulcan like?"

Archer smiled, kind of evilly. At that moment, she got a glimpse of the man he used to be.

"Hot," he said, "Tough and smart too. I liked her until she sided with Forrest in the mutiny."

Lizzie sighed. There was no way of knowing if Trip was with this Vulcan woman or not, but it was clear that Archer found her attractive and Sato thought she was a threat. No wonder this woman had rebelled against Archer's attempt to take over the Empire. She glanced over at the chronometer.

"Let's play the sleep game for a bit," said Lizzie, "Then we can play the other game. The one Sato likes to watch."

Archer looked at her funny.

"Is that okay with you?" he asked, sincerely.

"It's not like either of us have a choice," she replied softly, "So I'd rather it be you that someone else."

He grinned at her as she snuggled up against him. They rested that way, and she listened to his heart beat. She counted in her head until she knew it was time and then she opened her eyes to see him looking at her.

"Thank you for helping me," he whispered in her ear.

"Likewise," she whispered back before kissing him.


	16. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R_

* * *

Tucker sat in a chair near T'Pol's bed, where she lay sleeping peacefully. The morning sun came through the window and washed the chamber in pleasant, natural light. The big bed where she slept looked comfortable enough, and he had made sure that she was covered against the chill of the previous night. The Vulcans had been irritatingly tight-lipped about her condition, only saying she needed rest and that she would wake up when she was ready to do so.

The monastery was probably older than any standing structure on Earth, yet it stood solid, perched on a ridge that overlooked a valley of farms and fields. T'Khut was much smaller than Vulcan and its axis apparently tilted it away from the suns. Much of Vulcan's food was grown here, due to the more temperate climate. The monastery was built from something like sandstone, and there was no visible technology. The halls and rooms were lit with candles, and the monks and nuns who roamed the halls carried parchment and paper books. Yet, the building's temperature was reasonable and the air felt fresh. From the holes in the walls and ceilings, Tucker guessed that a passive ventilation system had been built into the structure.

Tucker found himself impressed with the ancient Vulcan engineers who had constructed such a solid building. His sister Lizzie always bemoaned the tear-down mentality of the Empire's architects and builders. She thought a strong society built its buildings to last forever. She would have been amazed and delighted by the ancient Vulcan construction.

Tucker sighed. As much as he enjoyed having his feet planted on the dirt and breathing fresh air, he didn't like being surrounded by nothing but Vulcans. On _The Selok_, he hadn't felt out of place at all. The peculiar mix of aliens that made up the crew accepted him, scars and all, and he had found a comfortable place there. It was, he realized, home. He suspected that T'Pol felt the same way.

He reminded himself to take a break and contact Talas about the ship. T'Pol would want to know the status of everything when she woke up, that he knew. Especially since it had lost its two most senior officers at once. Tolaris, scumbag though he was, had been well-organized and effective in his role.

Talas had returned to _The Selok_ the night before but not before letting him know that she had found out nothing as to Tolaris's whereabouts. The Vulcans weren't talking.

_"Take care of her," said Talas as she headed toward the transport pad. _

_"Why do you care so much?" Tucker had asked. _

_"She didn't have to intervene on the Andorian colony," replied Talas, "She probably saved the lives of hundreds of Andorians that day, and she didn't hesitate. Before T'Pol, how many commanders have you had who would do such a thing?"_

_He didn't reply. _

_"Yeah, me neither," she said as she disappeared. _

Tucker sighed. T'Pol had been Captain of _The Selok_ for a scant few weeks, and she had earned the loyalty of the crew — even the Andorians, who were notoriously fickle.

Now thanks to Tolaris, _The Selok _would be robbed of T'Pol for the foreseeable future.

***

A few hours later, Valrick appeared in the doorway. The Vulcan priest had performed a meld on T'Pol earlier, to repair some of the damage Tolaris had caused.

"You're very lucky, Mr. Tucker," said Valrick as he approached T'Pol, "She fought the forced meld very hard. If she hadn't, you would have undoubtedly died."

Tucker inhaled. How many times had she saved his life? This was at least the second. The third, if you counted their escape from the Empire.

Yet, _she_ likely would have survived the severing of their bond. How was it logical for her to fight so hard, risking her own life and sanity in order to preserve his life? It didn't _seem_ very logical, that was for sure.

"When will she wake up?" asked Tucker, who reached over to take her hand.

Valrick looked at T'Pol and then back at Tucker.

"I do not know," he replied.

Tucker glared at him. Vulcans, he realized, never gave an answer unless they were sure it was the truth. Couldn't the man at least have lied to make him feel better?

Valrick disappeared. Tucker continued to hold T'Pol's hand and watch her sleep. He didn't remember much of the short period when Tolaris had melded with her — just searing pain and then blackness. Truth be told, it was worse pain than the plasma burns that had caused his scarring and taken his eye, although it lasted for less time.

***

He didn't know how much time had passed when T'Les entered the room. Tucker figured she would show up eventually. He sighed.

"They say she's going to be okay," he mumbled.

"I'm already aware of that Mr. Tucker," said T'Les, without any sharpness in her voice.

He even detected a note of sympathy and concern.

"Valrick and some of the others object," said T'Les, "but I wish to teach you how to initiate a healing meld with her."

He looked up at the Vulcan woman.

"I'm not telepathic," he said.

"No," she replied, "but you have a bond with someone who is. It is worth trying. If T'Pol had a Vulcan mate, he would be expected to perform a healing meld."

Tucker snickered.

"If T'Pol had a Vulcan mate," he spat, "She wouldn't be in this mess."

T'Les raised her eyebrow at him.

"No," she said, "She'd be in a different kind of mess."

Tucker looked at her strangely.

"Not having spent much time among Vulcans, you probably don't recognize how eccentric my daughter is for a Vulcan. As you well know, Vulcans have emotions, we simply choose to suppress them lest we be ruled by them. The ability to do this varies among us, and my daughter's emotions were always dangerously close to the surface."

Tucker looked down at T'Pol, who still slept peacefully despite her terrible ordeal.

"Her father was the same way. He always expressed great affection for her and she to him. I was able to tolerate her father's eccentricity. However, I always worried that a Vulcan male would find T'Pol's nature objectionable. The mate I chose for her was a soft-hearted young man. I chose him because I believed he would not grow to resent her, but he was killed before they were married."

Tucker remained quiet. He knew Vulcans normally had arranged marriages, but T'Pol had never told him why she wasn't married — not even when he'd satisfied her pon farr.

"When Koss died, I should have found her another mate. But she resisted the idea, saying she wished to be independent. Given her emotional nature, it did not surprise me that she joined Starfleet," continued T'Les, "I confess I was slightly surprised to discover she had mated and bonded with a human. But I believe she instinctively did this because she feared being tied to a Vulcan who would shame her for a nature that she cannot help."

Tucker squeezed his wife's hand. She, like him, was an outcast from her own people. No wonder she had always kept to herself on _Enterprise_, and no wonder T'Les had approved of their bond. It had seemed bizarre to him at the time, but it made more sense now.

"You're a wise woman," said Tucker.

"Not so wise to have seen Tolaris's nature clearly. I am ashamed to admit, I even considered him as potential mate for T'Pol, given that I sensed in him an emotiveness similar to hers. Thankfully, T'Pol had the wisdom to choose you first."

Tucker was going to remind T'Les that neither of them chose each other. The bond just happened.

"Do you know what they are going to do to him?"

T'Les shook her head.

"I had assumed they would force him into kolinahr, the purging of emotions, and wipe his memory of this incident. But T'Pau refused to confirm that. I suspect she has other plans for him."

Tucker let go of T'Pol's hand, so she wouldn't experience any of the anger he was suddenly feeling. He guessed T'Les didn't like the situation any more than he did. He locked eyes with his mother-in-law.

"T'Pol has a right to know where the guy is. He could come after her again. He was . . .obsessed."

T'Les nodded.

"He never recovered from the death of his wife, although he kept the level of his distress hidden" said T'Les, "I shall endeavor to discover what T'Pau's plans are. I will inform you if I learn anything."

"Thanks," he mumbled, reminding himself that T'Les was not the decision maker here and yelling at a Vulcan probably would be akin to yelling at a the stone walls. Besides, she was going to help him meld with T'Pol and hopefully help her get better quicker.

"Can we start this melding thing now?" he said.

T'Les sighed.

"No. You are angry. I shall return in several hours. I suggest you attempt to meditate in the meantime. Or if you require sleep, nearby chambers have been prepared for you."

Tucker smiled. If he needed to sleep, he'd do it next to his wife. The bed was big enough. Apparently, Vulcan monks were not required to sleep alone.

"I shall return this afternoon, and we can attempt the meld again."

T'Les headed toward the door of the chambers. Before leaving, she stopped and turned around.

"Take care of yourself, Mr. Tucker. She needs you."

***

Lizzie sat at a big table in one of the work chambers of the Imperial Palace. The room had high ceilings and big windows that overlooked the bay. The ceiling was painted with a mural depicting glorious events in the history of the Empire. If anything good had come from her imprisonment, it was the chance to spend time in the Imperial Palace, one of the few truly great buildings the Empire had built.

Lizzie hadn't seen Sato all day, apparently she was spending time on _The Defiant_ with Travis. Lizzie did not know if Sato had yet found out what had happened between her and Archer, but she didn't doubt the Empress would discover it eventually. Meanwhile, she was grateful to have some time without Sato's stressful company. She even dared to hope Sato would be gone for a few days.

The screen embedded in the table showed the plans of a new cultural center to be built in the capital. Sato thought of it as a public works project, but she wasn't astute enough to recognize the corners that the architect was cutting. The city planner would have, but he was likely in the pay of the architect. That was how things worked. Lizzie sighed. She hoped Sato would listen to her regarding the issues with the plans. At the very least, this complex would need to be torn down and rebuilt within 25 years. At the worst, it would collapse on its own well before then.

When she heard footsteps, she looked up to see Peter Grayson carrying a PADD. He handed it to her. Her eyes widened when she saw the contents.

"This is my senior project from Carnegie Mellon," she whispered, "Where did you get this?"

Grayson grinned at her.

"You think I wouldn't do my homework about our guests? I was very intrigued to find out that your project was given the highest rating of any graduating architechture project that year. Cost-effective passive housing built using materials mined from the outer asteroid belts. Home grown materials to put a roof over every citizen's head. It's quite brilliant."

Lizzie blushed.

"In fact," continued Grayson, "You were offered a spot in the civil planning corps. You could have risen as fast and as far as your big brother. Possibly farther. But you turned it down to work as a grunt in a local Pensacola firm. Why?"

Grayson stared at her. She hadn't told anyone of the offer she had gotten. Not even Trip.

"My brother changed after he joined Starfleet," she said quietly, "I didn't want to change that way."

Grayson smiled at that.

"Service to the Empire is an honor," he said.

"Indeed it is," she replied, "I have recently discovered that."

Grayson put the PADD down on the table.

"You ought to show the Empress your project. Who knows, she might implement your plan," he said as he left the room.

***

That afternoon, T'Les returned to T'Pol's sickroom. Tucker had calmed himself down, not by meditation, but by napping next to T'Pol and watching her sleep. He was careful not to touch her, lest his emotions effect her recovery.

Now, he and T'Les were standing over her.

"I'm not sure a traditional meld will work with you Mr. Tucker," she said, "but you should take her hand. Attempt to communicate with her through the bond that way. She may be able to pull you into her mind."

Trip pulled a chair near her bedside. He carefully took her hand, glancing up at T'Les before closing his eyes.

_He opened his eyes to find himself on his favorite Florida beach, the one he used to sneak into as a kid. The wind blew gently, and there was little humidity. The air smelled clean and fresh, just like he liked to remember it. _

_Tucker shook his head. Of course, I am remembering it. But what am I doing here? He looked around and suddenly noticed T'Pol sitting on the beach, hugging her legs. She was staring out at the ocean and didn't seem to notice he was even there. He walked toward her. _

_"How are you?" he asked._

_She turned her head toward him, staring blankly. _

_"I don't know," she said. _

_"The Vulcan priests say your gonna be okay, baby," he said, carefully sitting down next to her on the sand, "Your brain just needs to rest and heal." _

_"It never should have happened. He should have been no match for me. I'm sorry." _

_She turned her eyes toward the ocean._

_"You couldn't have known he was nuts. Look, I hated the guy, but I didn't think he was nuts." _

_She inhaled the air. He realized that she was very angry with herself for allowing Tolaris to hurt her. Her pride and confidence had been as wounded as her neural pathways. _

_"He nerve pinched me before I could do the same to him," she said. _

_"T'Pol," he replied, "I've known you for a few years. You've always been able to handle yourself. He just caught you off guard. C'mon, I'll wager the last time a guy tangled with you, he didn't make it through in one piece." _

_She raised her eyebrow at him, and she began to share a memory with him._

_Dressed in the blue futuristic uniform and confident she had performed her duties well enough to be out of danger for the moment, T'Pol purposefully entered Archer's spacious quarters. She half-expected Sato to be lounging on the bed in some state of undress, but they were alone except for Archer's ferocious-looking dog, who was sleeping contentedly at the foot of the bed._

_Archer had apparently used the ship's extraordinary replication technology to make a bed for his beloved pet. His habit of never leaving the animal behind overnight had saved the dog from dying on Enterprise. Although she had grown accustomed to the smell of humans, the scent of their animals was still mildly sickening to her. _

_She stood formally in her at ease posture, wondering why he had summoned her to his quarters. Her report had been comprehensive, and it was customary for her to answer questions at the morning briefing. Archer must have had something other than organizational and technical issues to discuss. _

_"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to a chair in the corner. _

_"I prefer to stand," she said. _

_"Would you care for some bourbon? This replicator thing makes it so good that you'd think it was poured from a barrel in Kentucky." _

_She did not look at him but rather fixed her gaze at the whirr of stars out the window._

_"Vulcans don't drink, sir." _

_Archer laughed and poured himself a drink. _

_"Vulcans say they don't do a lot of things, T'Pol," he said as his eyes traveled up and down her form, "but I happen to know otherwise." _

_She had to work not to show a reaction his leering tone. It confused her, since Archer thought Vulcans were less worthy of respect than animals. She certainly didn't expect that he, of all people, would make a sexual advance on her. He stood up and looked into her eyes while taking a sip of his foul-smelling drink. _

_He reached up and gently caressed the point of her ear. The action caused a sick feeling in her stomach but nevertheless made her shiver — a natural reaction to the coolness of his touch on such a sensitive part of her body. _

_"I've heard that the ears are an erogenous zone for Vulcans?" he asked in a whisper, "Is that true, T'Pol?" _

_She did not turn away from his gaze, merely stared coldly at him._

_"I fail to see the relevance of the question since no self-respecting human would engage in sexual congress with an alien — especially a Vulcan." _

_Archer laughed unpleasantly._

_"Who said I had any self respect?" he replied and leaned in over to kiss her on the mouth while his hand gently gripped her ear to pull her closer._

_She made no response, keeping her mouth closed against him. He pinched her ear and despite herself she gasped not only from the pain but the implied threat._

_"Don't pretend you're above fucking humans T'Pol. I've seen surveillance vids of you and Tucker. You certainly looked like you were having a good time." _

_T'Pol's eyes widened in shock. Enterprise, like all Terran vessels, kept its crew under heavy surveillance. But the security teams were supposed to respect crew privacy unless security concerns gave them reason to do otherwise. _

_"Don't look at me that way," laughed Archer as he took another sip of his drink, "By the time I'm done with you, you'll forget all about Tucker, I promise." _

_"Why would you even care what occurred between Mr. Tucker and myself?" _

_Archer laughed again. _

_"I don't care. Sato, on the other hand, has quite a collection of vids she's jacked from the security system. Hoshi likes to watch, you see. She's generally more interested in human-human action, but she was sure curious about you and Tucker. She showed me — just to prove how wrong I was about you." _

_T'Pol raised her eyebrow. _

_"I mentioned to Sato that as hot as you were, I thought you'd be a lousy fuck. She bet me 100 credits she could prove otherwise."_

_Archer leaned in and kissed her neck. He put his glass down on his desk. He reached up and squeezed her breast. _

_"It was worth 100 credits to see that vid." _

_She still said nothing. _

_"C'mon, T'Pol. I'm the captain of this bird, and I intend to parlay that into even greater things. I can make your life easy or I can make it difficult. If you're nice to me, I promise your life will change for the better." _

_"Won't Sato be jealous?"_

_ He began nuzzling her neck with his mouth._

_"Not remotely. I'm sure she'll enjoy the footage. This ship is just as tricked out with cameras as Enterprise was. And If Sato's real nice to me, I'll have her join us so she can see the live show." _

_T'Pol bit her lip. She had no doubt that Sato enjoyed watching others mate, but the woman wasn't stupid either. Knowing who was mating with whom, especially humans who mated with aliens, was valuable knowledge. No doubt she had encouraged Archer to make an advance on her for more than prurient reasons. A security vid of Archer having a sexual encounter with a Vulcan could certainly undermine his men's respect for him. _

_It was one thing for Tucker to be involved with her — he commanded no one outside engineering and his abilities were valuable enough that his people overlooked his controversial personal life. Archer, however, would be held to a different standard. Sato knew that. Was Archer so arrogant that he didn't recognize it? _

_His hand slipped under her short skirt and snaked up to grasp at her rear-end through her underwear. _

_T'Pol took a deep breath. She did not wish to engage in sexual relations with Archer. More importantly, she did not wish Sato to hold sway over Archer. _

_She locked eyes with Archer, and he grinned at her. His fingers slipped under the cloth of her undergarment to touch bare skin, and he pulled her closer to his body so she could feel his sexual arousal. _

_T'Pol leaned up and placed her mouth on his. The coldness of his mouth chilled her, but she stuck her tongue in his mouth and reached up and placed her hands around around his neck. _

_He broke the kiss to whisper, "You won't regret this. I promise." _

_Quickly and deftly, she delivered a nerve pinch. As Archer collapsed to the floor, she kneed him in the groin for good measure. _

_"You are correct, Captain," she replied, "I will not regret this." _

_Porthos got up from his bed and began sniffing his master and then licking Archer's face. She slipped out the door, confident that Archer was in no position to accuse her of anything without revealing his own advance on her. _

***

Sato hadn't returned that day, so Lizzie basically had the run of the palace. She knew better than to push her luck, though, and she retired early. She reprogrammed the security system so she could continue to probe Archer's memories.

Of course, Lizzie didn't quite know what she was going to do with Archer. In the back of her mind, she thought that if they somehow managed to escape the palace and get out of the Sol system, the two of them could find their way to the outer colonies. Lizzie doubted her architecture skills would protect her from the difficulties of life there, but she figured that the man Archer used to be would be able to provide her some protection and knowledge. He might even be able to help her find Trip.

Archer was improving each day. They had talked through his childhood memories — he talked of swim practice and weapons training. He had spoken of his his resentments against his father, the famous engineer. He had talked about his frustrations at not being given a command.

Lizzie was surprised to learn his original intent had not been to kill Forrest. That the man's death had been an accident. Archer's murderous streak had only developed later, when it was clear he wouldn't be given command of _The Defiant_. He had learned from his mistakes, apparently. But he hadn't learned enough not to trust Sato.

_Poor bastard,_ she thought.

Without asking her permission, Archer got up and opened the cabinet beneath the nightstand.

"I brought you a present," he said.

"You brought me a present?"

He pulled out a bottle and two glasses.

"Real Kentucky Bourbon."

Lizzie's mouth dropped open.

"Son-of-a-bitch," she said, "That's wonderful. I love bourbon. I'm a Southern girl, remember?"

Archer smiled.

"I noticed. Your brother likes it, too. Not as much as I do, but he likes it."

Archer poured them both glasses.

"Oh, I know he likes it. Thank you. Thank you. I hate the swill that Sato is always drinking. Too sweet."

"I know, you mentioned that about twenty times," he said.

Lizzie downed a shot. Then two. Then a third. Archer matched her drink for drink. Even though she liked bourbon, she wasn't much of a boozer, so she was soon so tipsy that all she wanted to do was sleep.

"It's time for the sleep game, Jon," she whispered, barely aware of Archer slipping in bed beside her.

She worried he might make an advance, since she really wasn't feeling well, but he didn't. He just put his arms around her and went to sleep along with her.

***

When Tucker's eyes opened, he needed a moment to orient himself. Then, he began to remember seeing her in his mind. He also remembered the memory she had showed him of Jonathan Archer on _The Defiant_. He had watched it as if he had been there in the room.

_Archer is lucky he's dead, _thought Tucker, _Because I'd kill him the same way I'm going to kill Tolaris if he wasn't. _

At least, he owed Sato for making Archer dead.

"You were with her for several minutes, Mr. Tucker," asked T'Les, "Did you communicate with her?"

He nodded.

"She knows where she is now. She knows she's got to rest. I think she's going to be okay. She just needed to remember how tough she is."

T'Les nodded.

"I'm glad you could help her do that," she replied.


	17. Chapter 17

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R to NC-17, depending on your sensibilities.  
_

* * *

T'Pol's eyes opened to see a stone wall. She inhaled, immediately recognizing the fresh air of a planet rather than the recycled air of a starship. She realized she was both hungry and thirsty, and, most importantly, alive.

She turned over and saw her mother seated in a chair.

"Do not attempt to sit up," she said, "I shall summon the healer. You will need water."

T'Pol obeyed her mother, and she attempted to remember what had happened. Tolaris had failed, she knew that. She knew that Charles had communicated with her while she was recovering, and he even helped her mind heal. But she did not specifically remember their communications. Presently, his presence in her mind was too vague, too far away for him to be in the room or even nearby. She wondered where he was and how long she had been unconscious.

Her mother appeared in the doorway with a glass of water.

"Valrick has been summoned. Drink this slowly," she said.

T'Pol drank a few sips of the water.

"You've been recovering for three days," said T'Les, "How do you feel?"

"Tired," she replied, "Hungry and thirsty. But otherwise well."

She looked around, still wondering where Charles was.

"He is on _The Selok_," said T'Les, "There was an issue with the engine, so he transported to the ship this morning. He has been sending regular inquiries about your state of being, though I told him I would notify him of any changes."

T'Pol nodded and sipped more of the water. It soothed her dry mouth and throat.

"He did not wish to go, but it was for the best. He had begun to annoy Valrick and the others with his constant questions and accusations. He also attempted to track down Tolaris, who is in the custody of T'Pau's security forces. Tolaris will no longer be a threat to you."

T'Pol inhaled. Something about her mother's tone did not sit right with her, but she knew it was not the appropriate time to bring it up.

"Where are we?"

"The Monastery on T'Khut"

Valrick appeared in the doorway.

"You must do your best to heal," continued T'Les, "T'Pau wishes to send _The Selok_ to Andoria to fetch a negotiating team and escort their ship back here. Since you saved the Andorian colony, your presence is important. If we can agree with the Andorians to negotiate with the Empire together, both our worlds will be in a stronger position."

T'Pol nodded. Although she was tired, she did not feel permanently damaged. She believed she could return to duty soon.

"I wish to meld with you to determine if your neural pathways have any residual damage," said Valrick, "Do I have your permission?"

T'Pol nodded again, and he placed his fingers on her temples.

* * *

Lizzie's eyes opened, and the sun shone threw her bedroom window.

"Good morning" said Jonathan Archer.

She rolled over to face him. He was next to her, propped up against the headboard and wide awake. Something in his tone struck her. She knew he had been improving rapidly over the previous days, and some of the softness had gone out of his voice. It worried her.

She jumped out of bed and slithered under it to reprogram the surveillance system.

"We have about ten minutes," said Lizzie when she had finished, "I don't want to push our luck. It wouldn't be hard for someone to recognize my rig-job if they were looking for it."

She went and brushed her teeth and washed her face before getting back in bed. He looked over at her. Not only was his voice harder, his eyes were colder.

"She's coming back today," he said.

She inhaled. Things had been so peaceful without Sato around.

"She might want to see you," replied Lizzie, "Can you pretend? Will you be able to fool her?"

He smirked at that. He hadn't been trying to fool Lizzie, but he still seemed surprised that she recognized the extent of his improvement. He moved very close to her, but he didn't touch her.

"For the time being," he said, "but it won't be easy."

"She'll kill you if she knows," replied Lizzie, "or worse. She might try and turn you back-permanently."

He leaned close to her. She thought he might try and kiss her, but he just leaned his forehead against hers.

"I want her dead," he replied.

"I know," she said, "but you can't. Not now. You underestimated her once before. Don't make the same mistake. Give me time to figure out what to do. If she kills you, I'll be alone again. I don't want that."

Lizzie realized that she wasn't placating him. She was telling the truth. She couldn't escape alone. She needed him, and that scared her as much as the way he was looking at her did.

Her blue eyes met his green ones, and her heart started beating faster.

"I'll never let you be alone," he replied and then he kissed her, deep and hard. He was aggressive this time. She let the kiss go on for awhile, nearly swooning before whispering in his ear.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

He pulled back, taking her face in his hands.

"I'll keep that one," he said.

She nodded, suddenly more nervous than she had been before. She glanced over at the chronometer. They had very little time.

"I can't risk reprogramming the security system in the middle of the day," she said, "If you need to speak to me in private, meet me in the gardens. There's cameras but the audio doesn't pick up that far if voices are low."

"I remember the signals you gave me," he replied, kissing her on the cheek.

She tried to get a hold of herself as she got dressed, but she was trembling. Things couldn't go on this way very long. Something was bound to happen, for better or worse.

* * *

Sato was nearly shaking with frustration. Systems on _The Defiant_ were starting to break down, and she didn't have the expertise to tell what could be easily fixed and what couldn't. She didn't even have anyone whom she trusted enough to assign people to the right job as far as trying to fix the ship.

As it stood, Travis was doing a good job keeping the issues quiet. Anyone even suspected of blabbing spent a little time in the booth.

But she was sick of this. She wanted the Vulcans to give her Tucker, and she wanted them to do it immediately.

She bit her lip, and she pulled up one of the vids from palace security had sent her. It seemed Little Miss Tucker was capable of having a good time after all. Better than Sato had expected.

She had watched the scene several times, but she curiously got no pleasure from it. Sure, it was hot enough. But the way Archer was looking at her. . .it turned her stomach. It just wasn't appropriate for a slave to develop an attachment to anyone - let alone a prisoner like Elizabeth. And she certainly didn't want Archer to experience one moment of happiness or pleasure.

Sato pulled out a locket she wore around her neck, one that contained an image of Max Forrest. Sato bit her lip and held back the tears, wishing for the life that would have been hers if it had not been for Jonathan Archer.

* * *

T'Pau, carrying a PADD, walked into a small, windowless room in the basement of one of the houses on Vulcan proper that the Syrannites used as a safe house. Only one person was in the room, and he was restrained in a chair, the only piece of furniture in the room. T'Pau came without escort.

"Have you been well-treated?" she asked.

"As well as any prisoner could be treated," replied Tolaris.

"Would you like me to remove your restraints?" asked T'Pau.

Tolaris looked down at his hands and feet.

"Yes."

She knelt down and undid his restraints, putting aside the PADD for a moment. Tolaris took a moment to rub the circulation back into his wrists and ankles. T'Pau stood up and put some distance between herself and the prisoner.

"I wish to show you something," she said, tapping into the PADD.

She handed it to him.

"This is the Terran who attacked Talas and escaped _The Selok_. Major Reed."

T'Pau nodded.

"He was also in command of the death squad responsible for The Massacre at the Forge."

Tolaris showed not physical reaction, but T'Pau was sensitive enough to sense a deep, emotional response beneath the surface. She expected this, and it fit in with her plans.

"We believe he has made contact with The Romulans here on the surface. They deny it. If you agree to track and kill him, I shall overlook your misguided behavior toward T'Pol."

Tolaris raised an eyebrow.

"Your attempt to save her was, in part, a reaction to the fact that you could not save your wife from the Terrans. It is understandable. If you channel those emotions toward the elimination the man who is responsible for the death of your wife, you will likely be able to regain control of your emotions."

Tolaris was silent. Again, he showed no emotions but T'Pau sensed strong ones just below the surface.

"And if a non-Syrannite fugitive kills him, it protects your reputation as a pacifist and makes you blameless in the eyes of the Romulans, who I imagine would not appreciate your suspicions that they are lying to you."

T'Pau showed no response, but she found his assessment a positive sign. She didn't believe him to be stupid, or she would not have given him this opportunity.

"Of course, you must agree to never approach T'Pol again. On your honor."

Tolaris looked away for a moment.

"It is unlikely she will be residing on Vulcan in the future, if that makes your agreement any easier. Sometimes when temptations are far away, they are easier to avoid."

Tolaris stood up. He towered over the petite T'Pau, but she was not afraid. He was weak. She was strong. He wouldn't dare attempt to touch her.

"I will take your offer," he said.

* * *

Tucker read the message from T'Pol over and over again. It was simple. She had awakened and would return to _The Selok_ that night. There was no need for him to come to the surface.

He closed his eyes. They couldn't leave the Vulcan system fast enough as far as he was concerned. Between Reed being on the loose and the Vulcans not telling him or T'Les what they planned to do with Tolaris, he thought it best that they get the hell out of dodge.

He looked up. Liz Cutler, looking more like a Vulcan than Kov did, strode into engineering. She held up a PADD.

"I came to take inventory. Talas says we're going to depart tomorrow, and I want to make sure the Vulcans send us any parts we need before we go."

Tucker smiled. Liz, who was a naturally organized person, had taken over some of Tolaris's more mundane administrative duties. Talas had been more than happy to delegate to her.

"I'll have Kov transfer a list to you," said Tucker.

"By the way," she said, "I'm glad T'Pol is coming home. I'm glad she's better."

Tucker nodded and smiled ever so slightly.

"Me too," he said.

* * *

Sato wasn't in a good mood, that was for sure. She had been berating everyone, all afternoon. Lizzie wasn't sure exactly what had happened on _The Defiant_, but she had heard rumors its systems weren't working properly and that Sato was rightfully frightened of what would happen if people began to figure out the the source of her power wasn't technology that could be relied upon to work.

Lizzie had expected that Sato would summon her to her chambers, so she was both surprised and frightened when Sato showed up in the work room where she had been studying various civic projects. She didn't even bring her guard into the room with her.

Lizzie stood up and bowed.

"I got your memo about the plans for the cultural center. I'm going to have the new architects implement your changes. The old ones are going to spend some time in a Mars mining colony."

Lizzie kept her eyes on the floor.

"I'm glad I could be useful to you, your highness."

Sato folded her arms.

"Just don't forget why you are really here. Because I haven't."

Lizzie inhaled. This was the first time Sato had referenced the real reason why Lizzie was being held, as opposed to absurd notion that Lizzie was her guest. Sato was in a difficult position where Lizzie was concerned, and it didn't surprise Lizzie that she was growing impatient.

"If the Vulcans don't tell your brother about you within the month, I'm going to have to give them incentive."

Lizzie's heart caught in her throat. And Sato stomped over to her, taking Lizzie's chin in her small hand.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. But I think a little footage of you in the booth might motivate someone to get word to your brother."

Lizzie wasn't good at hiding her feelings, and she knew the fear showed on her face.

"It's nothing personal, Lizzie. I like you. And I'll see you won't be permanently damaged. But I need to do something."

Lizzie was quiet.

"Hopefully, it won't come to that," continued Sato, coldly.

Lizzie felt herself trembling.

"If the Vulcans haven't told my brother by now, why would they tell him worse news? They don't want to lose him or upset him, you told me that."

Sato slapped Lizzie across the face before turning on her heels and leaving.

Lizzie rubbed her face slightly where it stung, but she couldn't help but smile to herself. Sato was losing her grip, that was pretty clear. She just needed to figure out how to exploit that fact. She had no intention of letting anyone put her into the booth, that was for sure.

* * *

T'Pol hadn't yet seen Charles, as she had gone to her ready room and the bridge first. She had spoken briefly to Talas about who would take over which of Tolaris's duties. On her comm system, she had a simple message.

_See you soon. Charles_

She traced the words on the screen. He was waiting for her, she knew that as she went to find him.

She walked into their quarters, and he sat in one of the plush Romulan chairs, staring at the fire. He turned to look at her but was silent. She was quiet as well. She took off the shoes she wore and placed them next to his work boots.

He stood up. They walked toward one another, meeting in a forceful embrace. His mouth came down on hers, and his hands clutched at her robes while hers went around his neck. Her mouth aggressively searched his, and soon their tongues were in a war for dominance.

Without stopping his kisses, he pushed her back toward their bed. His hands found the ties to her robe and undid them. She found the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. The rest of their clothes soon followed. The bond energy flowed between them, for the first time unhindered by anger or confusion. Instead, she was engulfed by an odd mixture of relief, possessiveness and affection.

Eventually, he propped her up on the pillows and began exploring her body with his hands. She knew that he was familiar with ever curve, but he was making certain she was real and in tact, that this wasn't a dream or vision. She took one of his rough hands and kissed it.

As he gazed into her eyes, she tried to speak but couldn't form words. She pulled him into another kiss and then she instinctively began scratching at his back and nipping at his neck and shoulders. He parted her legs with his hand, and she helped him enter her. She sighed deeply at the feeling of him inside her, and he smiled a little at her reaction.

He didn't move. Both of them now understood they couldn't live without each other. Exhilaration mixed with fear as he began to move within her, thrusting hard and deep. He made certain to hit at just the right angle to hit her pleasure center, causing her to moan and writhe in his arms. He held her steady though, nearly forcing her senses to overload.

Finally, she climaxed around him - her tight muscles triggering his own release. After they collapsed together, she buried her face in his chest, unable to look at him. He didn't force her, instead just caressed her body lightly with his fingers as his breathing returned to normal.

Neither spoke as they both drifted into a deep, contented sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R_

* * *

Tucker woke up, and he wasn't sure what time it was. He sat up and realized T'Pol wasn't in bed with him. He soon saw that she had gotten dressed and was meditating in front of a candle in the far corner of the room. It was still quite early, but she always rose before he did.

He stayed in bed and watched her meditate. He opened his mind, and he felt peaceful, balanced. He'd always dismissed meditation as a bunch of Vulcan bullshit. But he'd learned there was something to it.

It was at least a half hour before she came out of her trance. She turned around to look at him, as though she was aware he had been watching.

She stood up.

"Good Morning," she said simply as she walked toward the bed.

She sat on the edge, and he took her hand. The thing between them, the bond, always sparked when he held her hand.

"Good morning," he replied, "You still feeling okay?"

She nodded.

"Valrick says that I should have no permanent damage, but that if either of us experience any residual symptoms, we are to see Phlox."

He snickered. Phlox's Empire brand of medicine seemed pretty primitive in the face of what Vulcans could do — between the neural pressure and the healing melds, he hoped he'd never have to see that vile quack again.

"Neural scans could be necessary," replied T'Pol to his thoughts.

"Let's hope not," he said, "By the way, when we get to Andoria, the negotiations should go on for days. Talas told me about an ice hotel — all set up as comfortable as a regular one with fireplaces and everything — it overlooks the most beautiful ice plains on the planet. She said she knows one of the managers and would get us a room if we wanted to slip away for a few days."

T'Pol thought about this for a moment.

"C'mon," he said, "It'll be like the honeymoon we never had."

Her expression was puzzled. So he explained the concept, which made her flush green.

"Whatever the case," he continued, "I'm not going to be separated from you again. If I have to be back on the ship to work on the engines, you're coming along. Negotiations or not, we're not going to be separated until . . ."

Tucker inhaled. He wasn't sure when. When they assured him Tolaris was not around to bother her any more. When Reed wasn't around. When. . .when nothing. If he had is way, she wouldn't be out of his sight.

"I am not a diplomat," said T'Pol, "I will not be required for all the negotiations. We shall go to this ice hotel if you wish."

He grinned at her, and he kissed her on the cheek. If it was at all practical, he'd never let her out of his sight. But he'd have to settle for not being separated by more than a few bulkheads.

"Good," he said.

She stood up and headed to the door. She turned on her heel before leaving.

"Have a good day in engineering," she said.

He bit his lip. One thing he'd learned serving on a Vulcan ship is that they weren't much for casual goodbyes. She was trying to adjust to being with a human. Her stiff posture indicated she wasn't quite sure if she had gotten her salutation correct.

"You too, baby," he said as she turned on her heels and left.

* * *

Lizzie was walking through the palace gardens when she heard a whisper emanating out of some high topiaries. She thought at first maybe it was Jonathan Archer, but the voice was different. She leaned over and saw that someone was beckoning her through a hole that had appeared in the bushes. Lizzie looked up and realized that the higher sculpted plants blocked the view of the cameras.

She slipped through the passage and she found Grayson there. He was seated on the ground. There was a dark-haired Vulcan woman wearing formal robes as well, and a brown-haired human woman, one with scars along her midriff and arms, in a Starfleet uniform. Lizzie's heart beat nervously. This did not look like an innocent meeting.

"Elizabeth Tucker," said Grayson, "This is T'Ling. She works for the Vulcan attache. She is also a Syrranite and has contacts with the Syrannite rebels. This woman is Anna Hess. She has taken over some of your brother's duties on _The Defiant_."

Lizzie nodded at both of them.

"I take it this isn't a social gathering," said Lizzie, turning to T'Ling, "What do you know about my brother's situation?"

"He is not being held against his will. But your brother is not yet aware of your situation since our leadership believes that it would be illogical to tell him."

Lizzie smiled ruefully. Sato had said the same thing.

"I don't blame the Vulcans for preferring my suffering to my brother's assistance on _The Defiant_. It's far more logical."

T'Ling acknowledged this with an eyebrow raised.

"That's just it," said Hess, "When your brother was in the brig, he had every motive in the world to help Sato figure out _The Defiant_. And he did a great job. The rest of us, well, we haven't been so enthusiastic in our work."

Lizzie let that information sink in. She knew her brother was brilliant, but he was hardly the only brilliant Starfleet engineer. It seemed the others were brilliant enough to not want Sato to have control of _The Defiant_.

"Sato may be a slight improvement over her predecessor," said Grayson, "but you of all people should recognize she is unbalanced."

Hess shook her head.

"And Mayweather has the the brains of a flea" she spat, "The's a good chance that the military might try and pull a coup. Most of the generals would just as soon destroy _The Defiant_ rather than let it fall in the wrong hands. But they'd probably be worse than Sato. At least she is trying to improve things."

T'Ling made a gesture with her hands, placing her fingertips together.

"Sato wisely wishes to integrate other races into The Empire," said T'Ling, "but without _The Defiant_, she might not be able to force the Andorians or the more hard-line Vulcans to the negotiating table. We Syrannites wish for integration, but other rebel groups favor reunification with our Romulan cousins. Some Andorians favor independence for their world above all."

Lizzie turned toward Hess.

"And yet you seem to wish to keep _The Defiant_ and its technology out of her hands."

"Can you blame us?" she spat " All her conduits weren't connected before Forrest's death. Now, she's so far on the wrong side of crazy that she's like a caged tiger."

Lizzie sighed. It was a difficult situation.

"Our leader, T'Pau, has indicated that she might be willing to hand your brother over to Sato, if her conditions are met," said T'Ling, calmly.

Lizzie's heart sank. She was sure Trip wouldn't want to return to a life of servitude, and she certainly didn't want him to subject himself to Sato on her account. Never mind what the Empress would do with _The Defiant_'s technology. On the other hand, she knew Trip well enough to know that he'd hand himself over if he thought it would save her. She wondered if this T'Ling could get him a message, telling him that she was all right and that he needn't return for her benefit.

"Of course," continued T'Ling, "His marriage complicates matters. His wife must be able to accompany him, given the nature of the Vulcan marriage, but she is also a fugitive of the Empire."

Lizzie's mouth dropped open. She looked over at it appeared Hess and Grayson were just as shocked as she was.

_A Vulcan! He married a Vulcan. Cripe! Mom and Dad are going to have to be scraped off the ceiling. _

"He married T'Pol, didn't he?" laughed Hess, "I always knew he was crazy about her. I just didn't know he was _that_ crazy."

Grayson was silent but he looked over at T'Ling.

"It was a surprise to us Vulcans as well. But the bond between them cannot be broken," she replied.

"This is the woman who served with him in Starfleet. The one he escaped with?"

T'Ling nodded.

"The escape was planned for her. The others were taken by necessity. But your brother chose to stay with T'Pol and serve on one of our ships. She is the captain of that vessel," said T'Ling.

Lizzie shook her head. Sato had said that Trip had a thing for aliens, but Lizzie hadn't quite believed it. This _would_ complicate things.

"In any case," said Hess, "If he returns, we'd like to bring him in line with the rest of the crew. Except with Sato holding you, he might not be amenable. Of course, if someone besides Sato were in charge, that might be a different matter."

Lizzie's eyes widened.

"We're in contact with the military. We're in discussions," said Grayson.

Lizzie's mind raced. If someone had the support of the engineers, a coalition of aliens, the senate. . .and the military, Sato wouldn't be hard to overthrow. But it was dangerous. Most of the senators were terrified of her. The ones that weren't were dead or missing.

Lizzie hadn't thought of being part of a coup. Coups were dangerous. Unstable. It seemed like Sato was going to learn that.

"I am only interested in escaping," said Lizzie, "I need to get away. Not just for myself, I don't want to be leverage against my brother."

Lizzie looked at the curious expression on Hess's face, which was punctuated by rather cold eyes. She didn't think Grayson would kill her. She knew the Syrannite Vulcan wouldn't. But she feared that in order to get her brother out from under Sato's thumb, this Hess wouldn't hesitate to remove her from the picture — one way or another.

"But I'd like to live through this," said Lizzie, directly to Hess.

"I've got a plan," said Grayson, "and if all goes well, you will live through it."

* * *

Malcolm Reed looked out on The Fire Plains of Vulcan. He'd been to dozens of Terran-class worlds over the years, never finding any of them nearly as interesting or beautiful as Earth. However, the Fire Plains took his breath away. He heard footsteps behind him. Romulan footsteps.

He turned to see one of the Romulan women who had been debriefing him since his arrival. The compound was far more luxurious than anything the Empire had ever provided for its soldiers. Reed marveled at the toughness of the Romulan military and how that contrasted with how they lived. He would have thought such environs would have made them soft.

"They are beautiful," said the woman, "We built our compound here not only because Terrans never come out this far but because we enjoy looking at the plains."

Reed snickered.

"I half-expected you to say 'aesthetically pleasing' instead of beautiful. Take those ridges off your forehead, and you could pass for a Vulcan."

She smiled at him.

"Not all of us have the ridges. Just like pigmentation and other features vary among humans, so it does with us. The majority of our ancestors, the ones who left during the exodus, had ridges."

Reed suppressed an impulse to reach up and touch the woman's ridges. Such an act would be rude to a human, he couldn't imagine what a Romulan would think.  
Reed sighed. These Romulans were aggressive. As aggressive as the Terrans, but their empire didn't seem like it had been hollowed out by corruption. They were people with honor.

He hoped they could help him restore honor to the Terran Empire.

* * *

Lizzie returned to her room late that night and got ready for bed. She was still pondering whether or not to join Grayson's rebellion. The way she saw it, that was a better alternative to direct suicide, but not by much. There was at least some hope the coup would succeed, and she would live.

Someone tapped at her door. She answered it, to see Jonathan Archer standing there. He was pretending his mind hadn't been restored. She gestured for him to come in and then she programmed the security system to give them privacy.

"Did she speak with you today?" asked Lizzie, worried that Archer wouldn't fool Sato.

"No," he said, "She was busy. Things on _The Defiant_ aren't going well."

Lizzie sighed.

"I know," she said, though she wasn't going to give him specifics on how she knew.

He broke out the bottle of bourbon and they both had a glass. She didn't drink too much this time. They both got on the bed and began talking about possible ways to escape. It wasn't long, however, before he reached over and kissed her.

She closed her eyes and let him kiss her for awhile before whispering in his ear.

"Jon," she said, "The security system is rigged. There's no need for this."

He broke the kiss, looking at her as if she had lost her mind. She blushed, and he pulled her into his arms, kissing her again. She responded despite herself, and she was happy to lose herself to him, if only for awhile.

_No wonder Sato didn't outright kill him_, thought Lizzie, who soon found herself limp and quivering, _that would have been a total waste_.

He gazed at her adoringly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Thank you," he said as he ran a finger over her lips, "for everything you've done for me."

She sighed.

"It's not like I had much of choice," she said, "but I'm glad I was able to help you."

She looked up at him. He didn't need to tell her what he was thinking. She could almost see the mechanisms in his mind working.

She squeezed him tight.

"Promise me that you won't move against her," she said, "Talk to me first. We've got figure out what to do together."

He looked back at her, and she could tell he was thinking about this. She closed her eyes, hoping he would agree. If he were caught doing something stupid, she would suffer as surely as he would. She didn't want either one of them to suffer.

"All right," he said in an all too tentative voice.

* * *

T'Pol stared at the ornamented ceiling of her quarters as she listened to Tucker's heartbeat with her sensitive ears. He was fast asleep, but he still had his arms around her waist, holding her close to him.

Ironic, she thought, that in trying to sever our bond, Tolaris made it stronger.

Since waking up in the monastery, T'Pol had spent some time contemplating her situation. She hadn't wanted the bond with Tucker, at least not consciously. Submitting to Tolaris's meld would have been less risky to her own mind than fighting him, but she never considered submitting. She had at first told herself it was simply honor, that the bond was her doing and therefor it would not be fair to let Tucker die for it. Yet, the vehemence of her desire to keep the bond in tact had surprised her. She was more than content with her mate. She was _glad_ he was her mate.

It hadn't been easy residing with Tucker, of course. She knew well that at first he had only enforced the bond between them out of spite. But T'Les had proved correct, that beneath the scorn was something much deeper.

She wasn't certain why she cared for him so deeply, but she recognized that she had a mate that appreciated who she was, for better or worse. Unlike a Vulcan, he did not expect that which she could not give. He wasn't even aware of what she could not give. She was a pure Vulcan as far as he was concerned. She could honor the bond and him because of that.

Their life wouldn't be easy, but at least among the Syrannites, their bond would be respected.

Tucker stirred, and his eyes gradually opened. His arms squeezed her tighter.

"Hey, baby," he whispered.

"I did not mean to wake you," she said.

"S'okay," he said as his hands began to caress her body, "I'm just glad you're here and not a dream."

She sighed contently as she enjoyed the feel of his rough hands on her skin. A Vulcan mate would not engage in such pleasant physical affection. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled open the nightstand drawer. She sat up. He took out a small box.

"I had some time on my hands while you were on the surface," he said, opening the box.

Her eyes weren't as good as his in the low light, and she squinted to see what the box contained. It was a small, shiny object. He held it close to her eyes.

A ring.

"It's a human tradition," he said, "Married couples wear rings on their left ring fingers, as a symbol to themselves and others that they belong to one another."

T'Pol looked at the ring. Fashioned from platinum, it was a simple design — two thin ropes entwined to make one ring. Matebonds made such primitive symbols of possession unnecessary for Vulcans, but she admired the ring — and the impulse behind it — nonetheless.

"The Romulans use platinum to reinforce joints when titanium doesn't have enough give. So, there was some in the machine shop. And I got your ring size from the transporter buffer."

He took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. He then produced a second larger ring from the box. It matched the first. She slipped it on his finger.

He kissed the interior of her hand.

"Don't take it off, baby," he said.

"I won't," she replied, "but you should not remove yours either."

"I don't plan to," he whispered.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Rating: Hard R.

A/N: The chapter in which T'Pol finally turns the tables and gets back at Trip for Chapter 11. If that kind of thing bothers you, do not read further! Dedicated to Aquarius, as her Avatar is the inspiration for this scene.

* * *

As her ship headed toward Andorian space, T'Pol rang the chime on the quarters reserved for honored guests. The chief diplomat, charged with the task of convincing the Andorian delegation to negotiate with the Empire in tandem with the Vulcans, was staying there. Or, more specifically, her current mission was to convince an Andorian delegation to come to Vulcan so T'Pau herself could convince them.

V'Lar, the chief diplomat representing the Syrannites, answered the door. She was an older woman, who wore severe looking black robes. V'Lar was a legend on Vulcan, having been part of various rebel causes since she was in her forties. She had been on the Empire's wanted list since before T'Pol was born. It was rumored that before embracing Syrannite principals, she had personally bombed a Terran military outpost, killing 230 soldiers.

"Ambassador, I am Captain T'Pol. I was unwell and unable to welcome you aboard. I came to correct that slight."

V'Lar beckoned her inside. The guest quarters were nearly as lush as T'Pol's own.

"Please, join me for tea," said V'Lar.

T'Pol sat down and allowed V'Lar to pour her a cup of tea. She nearly choked on the unfamiliar brew. It was strong and heavily spiced.

"It is Andorian tea. From the emotions evident on your face, I assume you have never had any."

T'Pol's expression returned to its normal placidity, and she continued to sip the strong brew.

"No," she replied to V'Lar.

"I thought drinking some of their tea would help put me in the right frame of mind for negotiations."

"It is unusual," replied T'Pol, continuing to drink.

"You of all people should recognize the value of embracing foreign cultural traits for the sake of harmony," said V'Lar, who eyes the ring on T'Pol's finger, "Wedding rings are a Terran custom, are they not?"

T'Pol looked at the older woman.

"My husband is Terran, I wear the ring out of respect for his culture."

V'Lar sipped her own tea.

"Personally, it reminds me of a tiny Orion slave collar around your finger. But you clearly developed an interest in Terran . . .culture while you lived among them. You must be in favor of Vulcan being given equal status in the Empire."

T'Pol nodded.

"I don't believe that Vulcan has the military strength to remain independent, and I don't believe we have as much to offer the Romulans. Our cousins will simply oppress us as the Terrans have. The Terrans, even though they are loathe to admit it, recognize the value of having Vulcans in their midst. Andorians as well."

V'Lar smirked a bit. It was surprising, but she was rumored to be emotional for a Vulcan.

"Well, I shall certainly endeavor to further the goal. The Andorian rebel leader . . .Shran, what do you know about him?"

T'Pol thought for a moment.

"I know he is wanted by the Empire, as you are. He is known to be a formidable warrior."

V'Lar nodded.

"He is also betrothed to your first officer, Talas. He will likely press her to marry him while we are there."

"If he must press her, she must not find the prospect of becoming his wife agreeable."

"She would become his wife, as well as the wife of another woman and eventually another man, forming the traditional Andorian quad."

T'Pol knew of Andorian marriage customs. It was one of the many ways in which the Vulcans' new allies were different from her own people. However, as someone who had rejected traditional Vulcan marriage, T'Pol resolved that she would take action to protect her first officer from being forced into anything. It was the honorable thing to do, since Talas had been instrumental in her rescue from Tolaris.

T'Pol sighed, happy that her people were monogamous since dealing with one mate was complicated enough.

* * *

Three days later, T'Pol and Tucker were in the ballroom of an Andorian palace, which was crowded with mostly blue skinned Andorians but a few other species as well. T'Pol had only ever seen Andorians dressed in either black or blue clothing, but apparently on their homeworld, they wore a variety of colors. Reds, greens, purples and yellows mixed with the traditional blues.

The building, which was located on the southern continent, was not under the control of the Terrans and served as a base for the rebels. It's unique architecture made it invisible to sensors, and it was under heavy guard. Since the Empire's control of Andoria was tenuous at best, T'Pol felt confident that it was safe to attend the function.

Nonetheless, the diplomatic event bored her, and she looked forward to the sojourn that Tucker had planned for them. Although, truth be told, she could not complain about the lodging that they had been given in the palace. Since Andorians often cohabited in quads, the room was very spacious.

T'Pol looked around the room. The Andorians were proving another way in which they were opposite of Vulcans - the diplomatic event was boisterous — loud music and dancers entertained the guests, most of whom were drinking heavily. Andorians were also not shy of showing physical affection for one another, either.

_Or apparently strangers._

T'Pol's eyes found her mate, who was across the ballroom from where she was standing. A young Andorian woman in a red dress had her hand on Tucker's arm and was whispering in his ear. The two of them were looking over at her, rather salaciously. Tucker's eyes specifically were on her boots.

T'Pol was wearing formal Vulcan robes, but she had been given a pair of black Andorian boots that were designed not only be aesthetically pleasing but to grip the icy surface of the Andorian sidewalks. Illogically, the boots had high spiked heels and a steel tip. Thankfully, T'Pol had learned to walk in such shoes during her time among the Terrans.

T'Pol was about to approach Tucker and his new friend when Talas came up next to her.

"Don't worry about Tucker. He's not about to jump at the first set of cute antennae that offers herself to him. Especially that vacuous ninny."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow at Talas. Something about her confidence on this point indicated she knew of what she spoke.

"Damn," said Talas, "Here comes Shran. Do me a favor. Tell him now that I am your first officer you can't afford to lose me."

T'Pol looked at Talas, who looked more irritated than distressed.

"That would not be a lie. It is the truth."

"Yes, but he's too arrogant to see the greater good. He's a man used to getting what he wants."

T'Pol looked over at the handsome Andorian rebel leader. He was smiling at Talas and made a gesture with one of his antenna. He stopped just short of them, and then he smiled at T'Pol.

"And he wants you," replied T'Pol.

"He wants you, too, Captain. The ninny in the red dress. That's his wife. He sent her to seduce Tucker because if Tucker screws her, it would be considered impolite if Tucker didn't allow Shran a shot at you."

Talas downed her glass of Andorian ale. She bit her lip.

"And he'll want his shot at Tucker, too," continued Talas.

T'Pol inhaled sharply. The woman in the red dress was still whispering in Tucker's ear.

_Typical human_, she thought, _not understanding the implications of his own actions. On multiple fronts._

"Not that Shran is known to be a disappointment," spat Talas, "It's just his sense of entitlement that gets me. That and his choice of sister wife. I might have been willing to marry him — but I am sure as hell not going to marry that little twit."

"If you do not wish to marry them, you may have refuge on _The Selok_," replied T'Pol, thinking of the gratification she had gotten from helping Liz Cutler escape Phlox.

"The Syrannites might wish to trade me for Andorian favors," said Talas.

"We will deal with that, if necessary, but I will not allow you to be forced into anything against your will. " said T'Pol as she strode toward her mate.

It was time Tucker learned what a Vulcan mate expected of him.

* * *

_So much for Vulcans keeping control of their emotions_, thought Tucker. T'Pol had practically dragged him from the ballroom.

T'Pol's face was expressionless but lacking serenity, and in his mind, Tucker felt that she was downright pissed off. And jealous. She thought of him as hers and hers alone.

Tucker bit his lip to hide the smile that was creeping up. Up until now, he'd sensed attraction from his wife. He'd sensed her feelings of duty toward him because of the bond. Lately, he'd even felt affection. Intense affection, if that made any sense.

But he'd never felt possessiveness or jealousy before, and thanks to the bond, Tucker knew just how strong she was feeling those two things, despite her outward calm. She wanted to teach him a lesson — show him that as she belonged him, he belonged to her.

As they walked toward their room, Tucker's heart started to beat. Normally, he liked being the one in control — but he wasn't adverse to letting a woman be on top now and again. He kept his eyes on the ground, hoping to hide his mood. She seemed so caught up in her own thoughts, he guessed she wasn't taking much notice of his emotional state.

_Good thing, too_, he thought, figuring his amusement might really piss her off.

They returned to the room, which was being kept warm for their benefit. But not quite warm enough.

"Something botherin' you, hon?" he asked as he activated the fireplace.

She clasped her hands behind her back and strode into the center of the room.

"Mr. Tucker," she said, "I recognize that humans do not take mating bonds as seriously as we Vulcans. However, I know for a fact that humans are not naturally polyamorous in the manner of Denobulans or Andorians."

Tucker kept his eyes on the floor. He looked at the blue geometric pattern on the Andorian rug, and then he glanced over at the giant bed. Group sex was the Andorian norm, after all.

"Honey," he said, "I was just bein' polite. . . .I mean, we wouldn't want to insult our hosts and cause an incident . .besides, the Andorian lady in the red dress was telling me that she couldn't wait to get her hands on _you_, baby" he said.

She stepped toward him. Her eyes were icier than the Andorian terrain.

"Are you telling me that you would not mind if I had sexual relations with another?"

Tucker looked up at her.

"Nah. . .I'd mind. But I didn't mind thinking about you with one of those pretty blue things. . ."

She stepped closer.

"Shran is awfully pretty, don't you think? Talas said so several times."

That irritated him. She knew well that most human males liked to see females together. Hell, Archer had suggested as much to her before she nerve pinched his ass. But another man was an entirely different matter.

"You know I didn't mean him," he said snippily.

"I know," she said, "but that Andorian woman would expect you to mate with Shran as well as her. Would you like that?"

He sighed. Many upper class humans didn't think anything of making younger guys service them, if there weren't any girls around. Thankfully, his brother Bert had taught him how to avoid that when he was very young. And that kind of debauchery was more of flyboy or MACO thing. The culture in Engineering was more pedestrian.

But now, T'Pol was rightfully going to accuse him of being a hypocrite.

"No," he said, "No, I wouldn't like that."

She reached over and put her warm hand under his chin, gently forcing him to look at her.

"I would not like that, either. Nor would I like to see you with another female. Vulcans do not _share_ their mates."

He gave her a little smile at that.

"I'm all yours, baby," he said, "You know that."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I think you're going to have to prove that, Mr. Tucker."

"I'm at your command," he said, playfully.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Say my name. And my title. I am Lady T'Pol, of the highest cast of Vulcan. It is time you started showing me proper respect."

Her hot breath in his ear sent a shiver down his spine.

"I'm at your command, _Lady_ T'Pol," he said, working hard not laugh.

Suddenly, she reached down and grabbed his ass with her right hand.

"Do you find something amusing, Mr. Tucker?"

He stared down and his shoes and composed himself. He knew since that day before she left for T'Khut that she'd been itching to get back at him for the spanking he'd given her. She'd just been waiting for the right occasion. Seemed that she'd found it.

"No, my lady," he said softly.

"Good," she said, "Now go to my green bag and retrieve what's in the side left pocket."

Curious, he did as he was told. He didn't have a clue what was in the green bag. He reached in the flap and found a pair of security wrist restraints.

_Damn_, he thought, _she's decided to up the stakes, hasn't she?_

She must have been doing research on the sly. All the better for him, especially when he decided to turn the tables back around. He made a mental note to hack into the ship's computer to see what kind of files she'd been accessing. He returned to where she was standing.

He held up the restraints, and she took them from him. His heart beat even faster. He'd tied up a few women in his time, but he'd never let anyone tie him up before. He inhaled. He was going to have to trust her.

"Hold up your hands," she said.

Without a word, he did what she asked. She placed the restraints on his hands, making sure they were adjusted so he could not slip out of them.

"How does that feel?" she asked and she lifted his hand and kissed the tip of his fingers.

"Fine," he said.

"Good," she said as she ran her fingers up his arms.

As she finally reached the top of his shoulder, she took his face in his hands and kissed him. Her mouth was open and aggressive. She thrust her tongue in his mouth, and he resisted the urge to do the same to her. He accepted her kiss passively, enjoying the hot, astringent taste of her.

She broke the kiss and began to unbutton his shirt, caressing his chest at intervals as she did so. He knew she wouldn't be able to get his shirt off with the restraints on his wrists, and he wondered how she would solve that problem. He got his answer when she used her Vulcan strength to rip the garment off his body. It fell to the floor in pieces.

"Undress me," she ordered.

He examined her robes for a moment. He had undone them many times before, but his bound hands presented a challenge. He first reached up and undid the fastenings across her chest, caressing her lightly as he did so. He caught her gaze, to see if the touching would upset her. It didn't, so he continued.

"May I get behind you and undo your sash, milady?"

"Yes," she said.

He walked around her and undid the sash, and then he gently pushed the robes off of each of her shoulders. The robes fluttered to the floor, leaving her naked except for her black, heeled boots. He wasn't about to take those off.

She turned around.

"Go turn down the bed," she said.

As he headed toward the bed, she grabbed his arm. He stopped in his tracks.

"Wait," she said.

She smacked him on the rear end, hard. He winced. Even through his pants, it stung.

Thankfully, in a _good_ way.

"That was for the way you looked at the Andorian woman in the red dress," she said.

She smacked him again.

"And that was for imagining I would wish to have sexual relations with her," she continued.

He closed his eyes. She smacked him twice more in a row, hard.

"Ow," he said.

"Silence," she ordered, "That was for desiring sexual relations with her."

She spat into his ear, before nipping him on the earlobe.

"You belong to me, Charles," she said, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, milady," he said.

He turned to look at her, and she looked at him with her big, brown eyes. He wanted her to know he meant that. It wasn't part of the game.

"Good," she replied, pushing him towards the bed.

* * *

Awhile later, Tucker opened his eyes to find her undoing the restraints. After she gently soothed the red marks on his wrists, which would probably be there for days, he took her into his arms and pinned her down on the bed. As he kissed her, she clearly got the message that the game was over. She wrapped her arms around him and melted into his kiss.

Eventually, she leaned down as though to remove her boots.

"Uh, uh, baby," he said, "I like the boots. Keep 'em on."

She flushed a little at that and placed her head on his shoulder.

"I am looking forward to going away with you, away from our diplomatic and ship concerns. I'm glad Talas was able to make arrangements for us."

He entwined one of his fingers in her hair. He sighed.

"Me too, baby," he said, although he had a rather sinking feeling.

He was happy. She was happy. Or content. Or whatever. That meant things were about to go wrong. He was sure of it.


	20. Chapter 20

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R_

_A/N: The history TnT access in this story is from my Family Secrets universe. Also, special thanks to Crystalswolf for helping me with this chapter. _

* * *

  
Talas looked down at the PADD, shocked. She and Shran were standing in his office in the Imperial Palace. He was on a break from negotiations with the Vulcans, and he had showed her information about Tucker and just how badly the Empress wanted him back.

Talas took a deep breath. She didn't know much about Vulcan mating bonds, but she knew that Tucker and T'Pol couldn't be separated for long. If Tucker returned to the Empire, it meant T'Pol would have to go with him. Her ship would lose its Captain and its Chief Engineer in one go, and the rebels didn't have many candidates lined up as replacements.

"You weren't thinking of turning him in, were you?"

Shran laughed bitterly.

"I never thought I'd see you attached to a pinkskin. . .too bad his wife isn't inclined to share like a civilized person would . . . "

Talas scowled at Shran.

"It's not like that," she said emphatically, "He's okay for a Terran. Helped me out when he didn't have to. I like him. . .and I like her. If we lose them, we won't have anyone capable of running that Romulan Bird and with The Defiant around. . .we need that ship and its cloak."

Shran sighed.

"It's a substantial reward, bigger than the price that's on my head," replied Shran, "You know I wouldn't turn in another alien rebel no matter what the cost. A human would be another matter - except that if Sato wants Tucker so badly, I'll wager it's in all our best interest if she doesn't have him."

Talas exhaled with relief. She had hoped Shran would do right by the rebels, and she was right. Thankfully, in this case, what was right for the rebels was also right for her friends. Except, there was the matter of Tucker's sister, which gave her a sickening feeling in her stomach.

"Do you think T'Pol knows that they are holding Tucker's sister?" asked Shran.  
Talas shook her head.

"They have a telepathic bond. I don't see that as possible. Tucker knew she was in trouble on the surface of T'Khut just from that. He told me that they can hide little things from each other - but big things are almost impossible. Plus. . .I don't see her keeping that from him. She loves him."

Shran snickered.

"I didn't think Vulcans felt love. . .or anything else."

Talas looked him in the eye.

"They don't express it on the surface. But Vulcans are extremely. . . attached to their mates. I can't see her keeping this from him."

Shran folded his arms.

"That means the Vulcans kept the bit about his sister from both of them."

Talas nodded.

"That's something they would do. They wouldn't see it as logical to tell them, since it would only cause turmoil."

Talas looked down at the PADD. She thought about her own brothers and sisters, and what she would do if the Empire had one of them prisoner. She guessed Tucker would do the same, and even though the idea made her very sad, she knew she had to tell him. Even though it would be a blow to the cause.

"Let me guess," said Shran, "You're going to do something stupid and noble like telling the pinkskin the truth. . . .even if it harms our cause and makes Sato stronger. Not very logical, Talas."

She looked away, and he ran a hand playfully up her thigh.

"Which is exactly why I'm determined to make you my wife," continued Shran with a smile as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, "You'll have to get to know Nata better. She's not the twit you think she is, I promise. She was a graduate student in alien languages when I found her. She's very bright - she's just had an easier life than you or me. She's not hardened by battle . . .don't you find that charming?"

Talas didn't respond, but she didn't pull away either. She thought Shran would try and order her not to tell Tucker and T'Pol the truth, though he had no authority to do so. He didn't, and that pleased her. However, she still wasn't going to agree to be his wife. Not yet, anyway.

She got up, and she moved to leave the office.

"We shall see how negotiations go," said Talas, "If things improve between our species and the Empire, perhaps I won't be required to stay on The Selok," she replied as she exited.

She didn't have to turn around to know he was smiling at her.  


* * *

T'Pol looked around the room, which was very much like their room in the Andorian Imperial Palace, but the walls and floors were made of ice, and thermal rugs covered the floor in areas where one might walk. The room was surprisingly warm, but then again the ice walls were highly insulating.

"Works just like an igloo," said Tucker in answer to her thought, "They must not get many alien guests, since the desk clerk asked if our other spouses would be joining us."  
T'Pol didn't answer, she instead stepped to the window, which looked out over a huge, white glacier that stretched as far as the eye could see. Vulcan had nothing like this, and on Earth, the only place she had seen like it was the continent of Antarctica. It was a sublime view.

"Thankfully," he continued, "They have some off-world food for you to eat. I was beginning to think that vegetables didn't grow on this planet at all. Andorians are carnivorous sons-of-bitches, it seems."

T'Pol nodded. The ice climate was not conducive to agriculture. It was remarkable in itself that Andorian culture had evolved as far as it had without much in the way of farming.

Tucker came up behind her and pulled her close, pushing her long hair back and kissing first her neck and then her ear. A shiver went up her spine as she relaxed in his arms. The coolness of his touch, now so familiar, soothed her body and mind. The bond energy hummed between them, nearly intoxicating her. She was still growing accustomed to allowing the bond to flow freely. The intensity that came from his mind was something she wouldn't experience from a Vulcan mate, and yet it had become something natural and innate that she couldn't imagine her life without it. Her life before The Selok seemed like a dream from which she had awakened.

She turned around and placed her arms around his neck, staring into his marred face. He looked back at her, and he kissed her.

They divested each other of their coats and other clothing and were naked in each other's arms. They kissed and caressed each other for a long while until he pushed her toward the bed, nestling her in its thick, thermal coverings. She felt enveloped not only by the blankets, but by him and the energy from his mind.

Soon, it was as though time had stopped. Their minds connected as surely as their bodies, and soon enough they were limp in each others arms.

She hadn't known at first why the bond had formed, but when she had healed his mind and accessed his white space she started to understand. She knew now what she must have only instinctively sensed when she had chosen him to satisfy her pon farr — that underneath the cynicism and bitterness was a good man. It was as simple as that.

He must have understood the direction of her thoughts. She saw a slight pink flush appear on his cheeks before he rolled over on his back and pulled her close to him.

"I'm glad you chose me, baby" he said softly.

It wasn't a world where decency was an asset. They both knew that. Unlike the other universe, the one from which The Defiant had come.

Suddenly, she realized he knew about that place, as she did. She squeezed him tightly, burying her head in his shoulders.

"I didn't know you had accessed The Defiant's computer," she said, "I didn't know you knew about our counterparts in the other universe."

He laughed softly and planted a kiss on her head.

"I was as curious as you were," he said, "Imagine my surprise when I discovered we were happily married in the other universe. That we had the first known Vulcan/human children."

He paused. Then continued.

"Elizabeth, the binary clone who died as an infant. Then, T'Mir, who grew up to be an artist, Charles, who grew up to be an engineer like his Dad, and Jonan, who went to the Vulcan Science Academy like his Mom."

She sighed, remembering how shocked she had been to discover that they had had children. Among other things.

"And that you became the Captain of Enterprise," she whispered.

"I can't imagine any version of myself wanting to be in the captain's chair, but it sounds like the other versions of us had a pretty good life," he said, "and as pissed off as I was at you when I discovered this bond business. . .I remembered what I read. . . I suppose that's part of why I stayed with you. . .even though things have been different for us. . ."

"We can still have a good life," she said, a hint of emotion cracking her usual monotone.

"That seems like an awfully dangerous thing to hope for in this universe," he replied as he kissed her long and deep.

She sighed. There were dangerous days ahead. Once the rebels formally opened negotiations, they would all be more vulnerable to capture - or worse. Yet, those negotiations might hold the key to a future for them as anything other than fugitives.

* * *

  
It was evening at the Terran Imperial Palace, and Empress Sato had outdone herself. Acrobats, jugglers, dancers and musicians entertained the courtiers, who were drugging, drinking and eating themselves into hedonistic oblivion.

Lizzie found the spectacle remarkable, but she preferred to observe it from a distance. She stood at the top of a grand staircase, sipping Champagne and watching carefully. She had always disliked crowds and noise, and she was grateful that Sato hadn't yet ordered her to join the intense fray.

Sato herself was lounging on her throne, with Mayweather sitting intoxicated at her feet. Considering the elaborate celebration was in her honor, she didn't look very happy. But then again, Lizzie had never seen the Empress look happy.

She felt a familiar hand on the small of her back, then a pair of strong hands around her waist.

"You look very beautiful," said Jon.

She sighed. She was wearing a white, shimmering dress that Sato had ordered for her. It was so tight, she could hardly breath and it pushed her boobs up so much that she was afraid to move too fast lest they pop out.

She turned around, and she embraced him.

"You know it isn't safe to talk," she whispered in his ear.  
"We'll talk later in your room," he said, "We can't continue like this. I'm afraid I'll tip someone off."

Lizzie sighed. He was right. It was only a matter of time before they were caught. They needed to escape Sato one way or another.

Grayson suddenly appeared next to them.

"Jonathan," he said, "Sato wishes you to serve her this evening. Mayweather is . . . indisposed."

Jon let a hint of lucidity show on his face, and he was pissed. So was she. Lizzie wasn't just angry at Sato but at herself. Getting even a little attached had been stupid. She should have expected this.

"Sato says you are welcome to any of the other slaves," said Grayson.

Jon looked at her, and Lizzie feared for a moment he would refuse. She locked eyes with him, then she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Don't give yourself away. Do everything she asks," she said.

"She sickens me. . . " he whispered, but Lizzie silenced him by putting a finger to his lips.

"Go, Jon," she said, biting her lip.

He headed down the stairs, not looking back. Lizzie didn't want to look either, so she turned to Grayson.

"Come this way," he said.

Lizzie downed her drink and followed him into a small chamber off the hallway.  
"It's safe to speak here, I promise," he said.

He smiled at her skeptical look.

"You're not the only one familiar with surveillance systems," he continued.

She sighed, her mind still on Jon. It was stupid to be angry, but she was. Sato didn't care about him. She was doing this out of spite.

"Getting attached to the slave was unwise," said Grayson, "I would have expected more from you . . .considering. . ."

She stared at the older man.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You need me, not the other way around."  
That response elicited a wide grin from Grayson.

"Good girl," he said, "That's the attitude I need from you if our plan is to work."  
Lizzie looked around the room, as if to be certain no one was there.

"You didn't tell the slave did you?"

"No," she spat, "He had ambitions before. . .those ambitions could interfere with what we are doing. But I don't want him harmed. He's helped me since I've been here, and I want to help him if things go our way."

Grayson seemed irritated. She stared him down.

"No harm will come to Jonathan. No harm will come to my brother. No harm will come to his wife. That's part of our agreement."

Grayson stepped forward and opened a communication link from a monitor.

"Several military figures have expressed concerned about Mayweather's leadership style. They were planning their own coup, but they are amenable to my plan. The comm link is absolutely secure, I assure you."

Lizzie stepped over to the screen and took a deep breath. This was all better than throwing herself on the rocks.


	21. Chapter 21

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: R_

_A/N: Thank you CrystalsWolf and Aquarius for all your valuable assistance. _

* * *

Lizzie looked at the Vulcan woman, T'Ling, and then back down at the PADD before her. The images had been taken on the Andorian home world only days ago. Trip and the Vulcan woman, T'Pol, were in the company of a group of Andorians.

Trip was dressed in Vulcan style clothes, and he was standing next to her with his hand on the small of her back. She looked, well, Vulcan. Her face was emotionless, but Trip was smiling at her in that mischievous way of his. Lizzie hadn't seen him look at anyone that way since he joined Starfleet.

Son of Bitch, she thought, He really is in love with her.

"Are you sure this PADD is encrypted?"

T'Ling smirked.

"Vulcan encryptions have never been broken by Terrans, unless we wish for the Terrans to break them."

Lizzie nodded. She had never met a Vulcan before coming to the palace, and even though she did not consider herself a prejudiced person, she realized that all of the Empire's propaganda against aliens had affected her.

She had believed Vulcans to be rigid, emotionless automatons without any creativity or passion or higher ethics. But this T'Ling had a great deal of wit to her, along with competence and intellectual brilliance. Not to mention bravery.

Archer had also told her a few stories of her sister-in-law, indicating that T'Pol was a woman of great passion and ethics, so much so that she had fought against Archer's coup attempts not once but twice. As much affection as Lizzie had for Archer, she could hardly blame T'Pol. She herself would have done the same.

And Trip wouldn't have married a cold fish under any circumstances. She knew her brother better than that.

There was definitely more to Vulcans than she had been told, and it followed that there was more to Andorians, Tellarites, Orions and Denobulans as well. Every race, it seemed, had its flaws and strengths. If some of the more reasonable alien races could be folded into the Empire, untold amounts of energy and blood could be saved.

Occupations cost money and lives. On top of that, each new race could bring ideas, resources and enthusiastic manpower. If the leaders of each alien race were given positions of authority, titles and land . . .perhaps even human spouses to further tie them to the Empire . . .then everyone would be bound together against the Romulans and Klingons.

The ancient Romans had employed such a strategy, and it had worked for them. Certainly, however, resistance to assimilation would have to be put down with strong force. That was a given. But this strategy had to be better than the current system. Even Sato knew that.

Trip and his wife could be a prototype for a new Imperial model. Certainly, it would be difficult to change Terran attitudes regarding aliens and species mixing, but generosity toward those who were willing to marry their sons and daughters off-world might go a long way toward curing that. Lizzie nodded to herself. She needed to speak to Grayson about this idea.

"You can destroy these files," said Lizzie.

"I'm going to incinerate the entire PADD," replied T'Ling, with a raised eyebrow.

"Good deal," replied Lizzie, "Good deal."

If T'Ling survived this, she needed to be rewarded for her help, thought Lizzie as she went back to the city plans laid out before her.

* * *

Tucker and T'Pol's footsteps echoed through the icy cavern as they carefully descended a winding stone staircase toward the edge of a steamy hot spring. The water supposedly had healing properties, and Andorians came from all over the planet to partake of the waters.

This cavern was private, available only to guests of the resort. Tucker had made sure that they had reserved it for the entire morning, and that no one would disturb them.

He inhaled the salty, cool air of the cavern. He looked up and noticed some petroglyphs on the ceilings. Apparently, Andorians had been using these springs for thousands of years, long before their recorded history began.

"The entire planet uses geothermal heat for its power," said T'Pol.

"I know," said Tucker, "One of their engineers showed me some specs on their power grid while you were in that meeting the first day. Nice of him."

T'Pol reached the edge of the water.

"I was gratified we could book this spring for ourselves," she said as she knelt to test the water's temperature with her hand.

"Me too," he replied as he hung his robe on a hook and stepped in the water.

"It's warm," he said, "Hot even."

"We were told the water is heated geothermally. Its temperature should not be a surprise," she replied.

He grinned at her.

"We humans sometimes have to state the obvious. Surely you've noticed that habit."

She placed her own robe carefully next to his and joined him in the water. A stone bench had been fashioned from the rock - and they both sat down.

"The water doesn't hurt your wounds, does it?"

He sighed.

"It stings a little," he replied, "but in a good way. Like it's healing."

T'Pol put her hand on his cheek.

"The waters will not only help cleanse your body of delta radiation, they may even diminish the appearance of the scars," she whispered, "They have been known to do that for Andorians, but it is unknown if they will have the same effect on a human."

Tucker sensed a bit of reticence in her voice. He searched her mind to see if he could determine the source. He was still getting used to using the bond this way, and he was delighted to discover that not only did she find his scars "agreeable" but she feared that if they were less noticeable that he might be tempted to return to human women. After all, she knew his taste for alien women had developed after his accident.

He gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm not going anywhere baby, scarred or not. You don't know how much it means to me that you want me as I am."

He meant what he said. She could have chosen any one of the other humans on Enterprise to satisfy her Pon Farr - Archer, Reed, Forrest, Mayweather . . .any one of them would have done the job happily, despite the fact that they weren't supposed to want alien women. They weren't blind, after all. But she chose him.

Never once had he sensed revulsion toward his appearance. On the contrary, she found his imperfections endearing.

"Human women found you very aesthetically pleasing before your accident," she said softly, "and your life would be easier if your mate was human."

He squeezed her tightly.

"Easier doesn't mean better, darlin" he replied with a laugh, "You're stuck with me as long as I'm alive. And I plan on living a long time. Long enough to see our kids grow up."

T'Pol looked at him, and he could tell she was surprised at that.

"I know we'll need a little help," he said, "but we should look into finding a Vulcan doctor willing to help us - if things settle down, I mean."

He closed his eyes and slid his head all the way under the water. It did sting his wounds, but he wanted his face to get some of the benefits of the water. He also did it to keep her from seeing the grin on his face at her surprise over the remark about kids.

Sure, it was a rough world and alien hybrid children didn't always have it easy. But nobody had it easy, and if they found an out-of-the-way colony, things wouldn't be so bad. He sure as hell wasn't going to avoid having a family because of what other people thought. Bigoted humans, including his parents, could go hang.

When he couldn't hold his breath any longer, he resurfaced and opened his eyes. She was staring at him in wonder, and he smiled at her.

"We'll work out the details later," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

She nodded and put her arms around him. He took that as an assent to his plan.

* * *

Lizzie looked up from her console. She hadn't seen Sato all day, but the Empress was walking over to where Lizzie was sitting. She looked pissed.

Sato said nothing, she just slapped Lizzie across the face. Her cheek burned, and Lizzie lifted a hand to where the blow struck, but she knew better than to say a word. Something had happened, and she instinctively knew it had something to do with Archer.

She looked into the Empress's eyes, and she waited for Sato to tell her what was wrong.

"He said your name," she spat.

Lizzie's heart sank. Did she know he had recovered? Was Jon all right?

Damn Jonathan Archer and his temper if he had revealed himself.

"He can barely form sentences, but he sure did remember your name."

Relief. She was thankful that Jonathan had managed to keep his secret during what must have been a very awkward exchange. She worried that he wasn't that good of an actor or that he'd let his hate for Sato overwhelm him. Lizzie remained quiet, nonetheless.

"You know what, I was going to give it another week or so, but I think you deserve a little time in the booth. And you know what? I'm going to make Archer watch."

Lizzie drew a sharp breath. She wasn't afraid, but this was a complication.

"Guards!" shouted Sato, "Take her to the booth."

The guards came in and each one of them looked at her with sympathy. She had gotten to know most of them during her time at the palace, and they knew well she hadn't done a thing to deserve a trip to the booth. At least nothing that Sato knew about. As they approached her, Lizzie smiled.

"It's okay," she said, "I'll go willingly."

As she left the room with the guards, she heard the Empress laugh bitterly.

Lizzie turned around.

"Will you be watching?" asked Lizzie.

Sato glared at her.

"Haven't decided," she replied, "but probably just to see the look on Archer's face."

Lizzie did her best not to smirk.

"Then I'll see you later," said Lizzie. As she left with the guards, she spoke to one of them. "Could you tell Grayson what has happened? He needs to know. I need him to know."

The guard nodded.

* * *

"They only found a hand, an ear, and part of the tongue in the river," said the young Vulcan, "but the DNA is a match."

T'Pau and T'Les, who were both enjoying afternoon tea in a garden overlooking a lush T'Khut valley, both looked at each other.

"So, there is no proof that Tolaris is dead," replied T'Les, "Only that he failed at his mission to assassinate Reed."

"Indeed," said the young man, who had come to inform T'Pau of the grim discovery in person.

"This is most disappointing," said T'Pau.

T'Les raised an eyebrow. She was not at all disappointed by the finding, and even found herself hoping that Tolaris still lived and suffered for what he had done to T'Pol and her husband. She felt this despite knowing that Reed posed a far greater threat to their cause.

"The Romulans are not pleased that we intend to open negotiations with the Terrans, especially considering the arms, money and ships they have given us" said T'Pau, "and they might see Reed as a vehicle for helping them conquer Vulcan and later Earth."

T'Les nodded.

"Reed has high ambitions, though his abilities do not match those ambitions. However, that would make him a useful puppet for our cousins."

T'Pau nodded in agreement, and she looked down at her tea. T'Les decided to broach another subject.

"T'Pau, I believe you should reconsider using Mr. Tucker and his wife in your negotiations with the Terrans. You've said many times how valuable her skills are to the rebellion, and as you have said, if the Empress wants him so badly, it may not be in our interest to allow her access to his skills. Besides, there is the issue of ethics. Tucker and T'Pol are not our prisoners, and we have no authority to force them anywhere."

T'Pau turned to look at T'Les, her face a mask.

"You assume Mr. Tucker will not wish to go. On the contrary, from what I know about Terrans and their sentimentality, Mr. Tucker will most certainly desire to return to the Empire to help his sister. As his bondmate, no doubt T'Pol will go with him."

T'Les closed her eyes.

"Come now, T'Les. You are not naive about Terran nature. Despite it not being in anyone's interest for Tucker to return to Sato, he will do so. I simply wish the Vulcan cause to benefit from this."

T'Les sighed. She hadn't expected T'Pau to take that tack, and she needed to think on her reply.

* * *

T'Pol sat in the lobby of the hotel, across a table from Talas. She was rereading the information on the PADD that Talas had brought her and doing her best not to show distress.

"I thought you'd want to be the one to tell him," said Talas, "It'll be better coming from you."

T'Pol sighed. Everything, all their hopes for a future and a family had suddenly unraveled. She had come to know her husband well enough to know he could never live with himself if his sister suffered on his behalf. As much as he equally cared for his wife and desired her well-being, if he did not take action to help his sister it would cause him irreparable psychological harm.

As illogical as it was for the rebellion to lose two valuable members, she could not force him to choose between his wife and his sister. They had no choice but to surrender. Hopefully, when the Empress learned of the bond between them, she would recognize the necessity of not harming T'Pol and allowing them to be together. That would have to be enough.

Moreover, T'Pol realized that the Andorians had obtained confirmation of this intelligence from the Vulcans. It was very likely that T'Pau and perhaps even T'Les knew of Elizabeth Tucker's captivity and had found it illogical to inform Tucker. T'Pol closed her eyes.

"I spoke with Shran," said Talas softly, "He said he'd be happy to help mediate a surrender negotiation - so that Sato knows if something happens to you it will kill Tucker."

T'Pol nodded.

"Perhaps he'd be willing to share some of the reward money with a Vulcan refugee camp that needs funding," replied T'Pol.

"I think that is reasonable," replied Talas, whose voice was breaking.

"If negotiations go well, perhaps things will improve for the two of us," said T'Pol calmly.


	22. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One_

_Rating: PG-13_

_A/N: Thanks again to Aquarius and Crystalswolf for their help. _

* * *

Lizzie sat calmly in a small, austere waiting room, listening to the guttural screams of some poor man suffering in the booth. She didn't know who it was, but one of the guards said it was a kitchen worker from the kitchens who had incorrectly prepared one of Sato's meals.

The guards were outside, and she was alone. The door opened, and Jonathan Archer strode in and hugged her before he said a word. Lizzie made a mental note to thank the guards for sending him to see her.

"This is my fault. I'll kill her. I can't let this happen," he whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry," she replied in a whisper she hoped was low enough not to be picked up by the mics, "You've already saved me. But you have to promise one thing. Whatever I say in there. _Whatever_ I say. Don't react. Just be quiet and simple. Keep up the act. . . it's really important because . . ."

Lizzie didn't get to finish. Three guards came in the little room, and they looked pretty glum.

"We're supposed to restrain Archer in there so he won't try and help you."

Lizzie's heart started to beat faster. She looked straight in Jon's eyes and hoped she was able to convey just how important it was that he stay in character. He nodded, almost imperceptibly at her.

"You can take him inside," said Lizzie a little too brightly, "I'll wait here."

She turned away as they led Archer out the door. She closed her eyes. She had a plan. It was all going to be fine as long as Grayson had done as she asked.

_But where the hell was Grayson?_

* * *

There was no one else on the pristine, breezy beach as Trip and T'Pol sat cross-legged, across from each other. Birds squawked, and T'Pol inhaled the salty, clean air that smelled vaguely of dead fish.

T'Pol found the sight of her husband without scars and with both eyes strange, but she accepted this vision of him as the man he wished he could be for her as much as for himself. This was the person she could call by his childhood nickname.

"Thanks for helping me get calm," Trip said, "bringing me here was a good idea."

"I'm pleased I could assist you," she replied.

T'Pol hadn't had a choice. She couldn't hide the news about Elizabeth or her intent to surrender along with him. Their bond had become too strong.

_At first, he appeared calm, merely pacing their room. He suggested trying to rescue Lizzie, but T'Pol informed him that she wasn't being held on The Defiant but rather in the fortress-like Imperial Palace inSan Francisco._

_"I can't let you turn yourself in on my account. Can't we be separated, just for a little while?" he asked. _

_T'Pol looked at him. _

_"If you were Vulcan, that might be possible, but you're not. I won't allow you to take the risk nor do I wish to be separated from you." _

_He kissed her hand, and he closed his eyes. _

_"Sato isn't stupid," continued T'Pol, "She won't harm me if she is convinced it will harm you."_

_He was silent for a long while as his paces became quicker. _

_"We'll simply have to have the bond severed. I'm sure Valrick or T'Pau can do it, whatever they said before. It'll be worth the risk." _

_T'Pol sighed._

_"The bond has become too strong, and you would not survive. That would not help your sister or me." _

_He approached her and grabbed her by the shoulders, and she feared for a moment that he would strike her. He didn't. He just stood there, staring at her. Eventually, she placed her hands on his temple and helped him find his white space. _

Trip looked out at the ocean.

"You don't even know her," he said, "and it doesn't seem fair that you would give up your freedom to help her."

She raised an eyebrow.

"It's logical. We cannot be separated. You cannot abandon your sister. This is the only solution. I. . .we will endure," she whispered.

She moved to embrace him. For a moment, he pushed her away. Then, just as suddenly, he pulled her into his arms and squeezed her so tightly that she had trouble breathing.

_Strange_, she thought as she listened to his heart beat, _that I would rather loose my freedom than my mate._

* * *

Lizzie was getting nervous as she looked around the torture room. As promised, Archer was restrained in a chair nearby and Sato was seated near him. The Empress looked very smug, but that wasn't going to last.

One of the guards was about to put her in the booth but as if on cue, Grayson appeared in the doorway, accompanied by the palace physician. Sato glared at him.

"I didn't summon you," she spat.

Grayson didn't even respond to her. He spoke calmly.

"You can't torture this woman," said Grayson to the guards, "Even the Empress is not above the law, and it is illegal to torture a woman in Ms. Tucker's condition."

Sato turned pale as a ghost, and her mouth dropped open. Lizzie stole a glance at Archer and winked at him.

"Grayson's right," said Lizzie trying hard not to smile, "The law is clear. Torturing a pregnant woman is illegal. It has been for centuries. So is executing one, I believe."

Sato leapt up and strode over to her, looking down at Lizzie's waistline. Meanwhile LIzzie had cast a quick glance at Archer that she hoped articulated the need for him to stay silent.

The only other people that it was illegal to torture were mental defectives, and the definition of mentally defective was nebulous at best. Luckily, Sato wasn't focused on Archer at the moment.

Instead, she lifted a hand as if to strike Lizzie but stopped short of doing so.

"Impossible. All women take injections to prevent unsanctioned pregnancy. That's also the law," spat Sato.

"Seems that my medical care was overlooked since my arrest," said Lizzie innocently, "I started feeling a little dizzy a few days ago and finally went to see the doctor. He can confirm my condition."

Sato turned toward the doctor.

"Indeed," he said, "I have the legal authority to stop torture for specific medical reasons. This is one of them. She is three weeks along, with a male child."

Sato turned to Lizzie, and only for a moment, the Empress smiled. The moment was fleeting, and then her face practically turned to stone.

"Guards, take Ms. Tucker to one of the private cells in the basement. Make sure she is physically taken care of but allowed no visitors."

With that, Sato stormed out of the room, and Lizzie approached Grayson, who had stopped the guards from seizing her simply by raising his hand in objection. Lizzie hadn't told Grayson of her condition, but she told him to talk to the doctor if he got word that Lizzie was being taken to the booth. She hoped Grayson wouldn't be too angry with her.

"You are clever, I'll give you that," said Grayson as he stared at her midsection.

"This shouldn't interfere with our plans," said Lizzie.

"And if our plans go wrong," he replied, "You'll have extended your life by over eight months."

Lizzie smiled just a little at that. There was a saying back in Florida. Never underestimate a Tucker. She strode over to Archer, who was looking as dumbfounded as he was supposed to be.

"Everything's gonna be fine," she said, "Just stay calm and do what you need to do."

With that she turned to the guards.

"Gentleman, I believe I have a cell waiting for me," she said as she headed out of the room without looking back.

* * *

"You cannot give yourself up," declared T'Les over the ice hotel's comm system, "Elizabeth Tucker has sent us a communication indicating she does not believe it is in the Terrans' best interest if her brother returns to the Empire. She claims she can take care of herself."

T'Pol heard a disquieting hint of emotion in her mother's voice, while she herself felt a surge of emotion at the confirmation that her mother knew of Elizabeth's situation. Tucker, who had been listening from across the room approached the console.

"You've heard from Lizzie," he said, "What have you heard? Have they hurt her?"

T'Les raised an eyebrow.

"No," she replied, "Apparently, Sato has been treating her like a guest. At last report, the worst she has suffered is veiled threats and a loss of freedom."

T'Pol didn't need the bond to understand the profound relief Tucker felt at learning his sister was being well-treated. His face and body relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh.

"Mr. Tucker . . .Charles," said T'Les emphatically, "Your sister specifically sought out our operative and told her to convey her wishes to you. Her wishes are that you do not turn yourself in to save her. It would be both illogical and disrespectful for you to discount her desires."

Tucker laughed.

"You don't know humans very well. And you don't know my sister. She's definitely the kind of person who would say that and mean it. Which is exactly why I have to make sure she's okay. I can handle whatever Sato has in store for me - and I'm not about to hand her power that she can't handle. But right now, Sato's got me against the wall - and by extension, she's got T'Pol."

T'Pol reached down to one of the knobs on the console.

"There is nothing more to discuss, Mother. Live long and prosper," she said before cutting the link.

Tucker put his hands around her waist and put his head on her shoulder.

"Don't be mad at your mama," he said, "She doesn't know or care a whit about Lizzie. She was protecting you like a good mother should, that's all. I'd have done the same if it was my kid," he said.

T'Pol sighed.

"You can forgive her. I'm not ready to do so," she said, but she found her anger toward her mother had softened.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Thanks for the beta, Aquarius!

* * *

T'Pol had been meditating for at least two hours when she finally opened her eyes. She sat cross-legged in front of a candle in the quarters that Charles had been assigned on _The Defiant_.

They were not her quarters, Admiral Mayweather had made the clear. The only space that was designated as hers was an adjoining closet-like room that had been recently connected to the main room, with its narrow bunk and tiny bathroom. These spaces were designed to give the senior officers someplace to stash their concubines out of the way - should they not be in the mood for their company.

"_She's not a slave," hissed Charles at Admiral Mayweather, "She's my wife, and I expect her to be treated accordingly."_

_Mayweather laughed. _

"_You're damn lucky she's allowed to be with you at all. According to our research, you two just need to be near each other - not necessarily together. The Empress could house T'Pol in the brig if she wanted to. She's showing mercy by allowing you to keep T'Pol as your slave. . .and make no mistake, that's what she is. Vulcan marriage laws don't apply on Earth." _

T'Pol looked down and her black clothing and the monitoring bracelet she was forced to wear. The bracelet allowed her to visit certain areas of the ship - the gym, the mess hall and the garden. Everywhere else besides Charles's quarters was off limits.

She sighed and picked up a copy of _The Teachings of Surak_, strangely appreciative that she would now have time to read it from cover to cover.

Charles had been more upset about the situation than she had been. She had expected worse. She would not complain. She would accept the situation until it was logical to do otherwise.

She opened the book and she concentrated on the words, doing her best to understand them on the deepest philosophical level.

* * *

Elizabeth sipped on some chamomile tea to settle her stomach. She sat demurely on the edge of the bench in her windowless cell. She sighed and put the mug aside, moving her hands toward her still-flat stomach. She didn't feel pregnant, though the doctor had been quite certain of the results of her test. Traces of the boy's dna had been found in her blood, confirming not only the pregnancy but the paternity of the child. She really didn't need that last bit of information, as there was only one possibility, but it was good to have documentation.

The doctor seemed a good sort, not one to lie or do anything too unethical. She had been forced to see him not long after she arrived. So much screwing went on in the palace that all the slaves and "guests" were expected to be checked out for communicable diseases and given contraception hyposprays.

It was the last part that had given her an idea of how to avoid the booth. The doctor's assistant had been briefly called from the examination room after preparing the hypospray. In seconds, Lizzie managed to unscrew the device, dump the contents and return it to the tray by the biobed. She even made sure to stand at an angle that would obscure her actions on the surveillance cameras.

Lizzie remembered how her heart thumped nervously as the nurse gave her the empty hypospray, not because she was afraid of getting caught but rather afraid of her plan's success. Part of the reason she avoided sex with Jon or one of the other slaves for so long was that she was hoping to avoid the booth some other, less drastic way.

Lizzie took a few deep breaths in and out to calm herself.

She had not wished to marry, so she had never thought to be a mother. The thought of being a mother still scared her, but in a good way. Now she had someone to live for. Now she had reason to want Grayson's plan to succeed. Throwing herself on the rocks was no longer an option.

The door to the cell block opened, but Lizzie couldn't see who had arrived. She assumed it would be one of the guards or Grayson. Footsteps echoed and soon, to her surprise, she saw Jonathan Archer standing in front of the force field that kept her imprisoned.

"Elizabeth," he whispered.

She stood up. There was no rewiring of the surveillance system down here. They were being watched.

"How did you make your way down here?" she asked.

"I had to see you. Is what you said true? What you said up there?"

Lizzie glared at him. He wasn't keeping up the pretense at all. She couldn't help him if Sato decided to kill him or torture him again, and she needed him. He had no idea how much.

She started speaking, slowly.

"Jon, I know it may have been hard for you to understand. But I spoke the truth. We're going to have a baby."

She stared at him, now pleading with her eyes. She didn't want him dead or back to the way he was. Their son was going to need him.

His eyes met hers. Finally, he seemed to understand. She exhaled and reached a hand up as if to touch him through the forcefield. He did the same, but they both knew better than to try and touch.

"Stay out of trouble. Do whatever she says," she whispered, "Now go before they figure out you're here."

Jon nodded, backed away from her and soon disappeared down the corridor. Lizzie gripped her stomach.

"Daddy better stay out of trouble," said Lizzie to her tummy, "I've got other things to worry about than saving his hide."

* * *

Tucker walked silently through the halls of _The Defiant_, headed to his and T'Pol's quarters. Mayweather could call her whatever he wanted, but as long as he had any say on this godforsaken ship - and he had plenty of say - he was going to see to it that T'Pol was well-treated. All it was going to take was a few miracles to impress the Empress, and then he'd have some pull. At least enough to protect T'Pol.

Tucker looked down at the red shirt with the pips that indicated a new rank - Commander. A little something The Empress had thrown at him, no doubt hoping he would be more docile and accepting of his new situation.

T'Pol had been so . . gracious and serene about the way they were treating her. She'd certainly taken it with more dignity than he would have, but thanks to their bond he knew the truth. Deep beneath that Vulcan calm, she was heartbroken. T'Pol had always had an abundance of pride, no doubt that's why Sato was forcing her to live like a slave. Sato knew it would hurt her worse than a visit to the booth. And T'Pol was letting it happen for his sake. He'd never forget that at long as he lived.

He reached their quarters, opened the door and stepped inside. She sat in the chair in the corner, reading a paper book in Vulcan. She had lit candles around the room.

"It's safe to talk," he said, "Apparently there is no built-in surveillance equipment on this ship. Apparently, crew privacy is more respected in the other universe. If they do start snooping, Hess promised to let me know. "

T'Pol stood up and got him a drink, specifically a cold beer.

"This isn't that phony booze that comes out of the replicator?" he asked wearily.

T'Pol raised her eyebrow.

"I would not insult you by offering you that. . .it's real, obtained from the mess hall only a few hours ago."

He sat down and drank took a sip. He had missed some things about Earth. Beer was one of them. With his free hand, he grabbed T'Pol's hand and held it tight. She knelt down next to him and place her head in his lap.

"Somethin's up with Hess," he said, "I got the feelin' she wanted to talk to me in private. She knows something. . ."

T'Pol exhaled.

"You should be cautious, at least until your sister's safety is secured."

Tucker sighed and set the empty glass on the table. He stood up.

"I'm gonna hit the shower, baby," he said as he headed into the small bathroom.

The shower offered two settings, old fashioned water and a strange system of sonic waves that apparently got the body just as clean. Tucker chose the water, enjoying the feel of the dirt and sweat washing off his skin. He dried off and headed into the bedroom without bothering to put on a robe.

T'Pol was lying on their bed, expectantly. She had taken off her black jumpsuit and wore nothing but the monitoring bracelet. He inhaled at the now familiar sight, feeling himself get hard in an instant. As she stared up at him, her big brown eyes were clear and peaceful, despite everything.

She could have resisted coming with him. She could have tried to talk him out of surrendering. Hell, she could have kept him a prisoner to prevent their separation. She did none of those things. Even with the bond, he wasn't sure why.

He strode toward the bed and sat on the edge, leaning over her took her face in his hands and kissed her forcefully.

She pulled back.

"It is now my sole duty to please you, Charles," she whispered, "Do you wish me to do anything specific?"

He chuckled softly at that. Typical. She always took whatever job fate gave her with the utmost seriousness.

"You're not a slave," he whispered as he took her hand and kissed the ring he had made for her, "not when we're like this."

Her face showed no reaction, but he knew that his words pleased her.

He covered her mouth with his again, thrusting his tongue into her warm mouth. Without breaking the kiss, he climbed on top of her. He moved his hands down her sides, enjoying the feel of her soft skin under his rough fingers as he showed her that he meant what he said.

Afterwards they lay together, bodies entwined, for a long time.

He had thought he would feel more despair. But he realized that as long as she was waiting for him each night, whatever the day brought, he could handle. And he knew she felt the same way.

* * *

Malcolm Reed stood on the bridge of a Romulan War Bird, amazed at the sight on the viewscreen. Twenty other ships had just de-cloaked, right on the edge of the no-man's land between Terran and Romulan Space. It was an amazing - no, a profound sight.

"Individually," said Captain Nala, "A single warbird would be no match for Sato's futuristic ship. Together, however, we should have no problem destroying her."

Reed turned to look at the Romulan Captain, with nothing but respect in his eyes. Greed was a destructive force. It had caused the Empire to crumble from within. The Romulans, rather than wanting to use _The Defiant_, had calculated that it was best to simply destroy it. That would be their first step in gaining control of The Empire.

_But just a bit of control_, he thought.

They didn't have the resources to take the whole Empire. They just wanted Vulcan. He would give it to them, and in return, they would support his bid to be Emperor. After Sato, Reed would bring calm and order to the Empire.

And as for The Romulans, they had much to teach him. But eventually, the student would surpass the teacher, as the brilliant ones always do.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Rating: PG-13 to R

_ A/N: There's some references to rather advanced tech in this chapter. I'm going on the assumption that since the Empire had domain over the Vulcans, their technology progressed more rapidly than in the RU - even without The Defiant. _

_ Also, big thanks to Crystalswolf for all her valuable feedback on this long, twisty chapter. _

* * *

Tucker lay on his stomach and moaned as T'Pol's strong fingers pressed into his back.

"Ow. . .could you be a little less aggressive?"

"The deeper the ache, the better the healing will be," she replied, but she lessened the pressure.

He had just showered the sweat and grime of the day off, and T'Pol had sensed the pain in his back and shoulders from spending too much time in the Jefferies tubes, bent over panels and conduits at odd angles.

He was naked, but she was wearing black pajamas that she'd created using the ship's incredible replication system. They clung to her body really nicely, and he was looking forward to stripping them off her.

"Maybe you could make a pair of those pjs in red or blue," he said, "just for when we are alone."

"I'm not sure that would be legal," she said, "but if it is, I will do so."

"Should be legal," he mumbled, "If you're my slave, I should be able to dress . . and later undress you - in any color scheme I want."

He closed his eyes as her fingers dug deep into his spine, creating a pleasurable burn.

It was ironic. As a slave, _she_ spent her days reading, exercising, meditating and tending to their quarters. Given that _The Defiant_ was fully automated, that last part basically consisted of putting their clothes in the laundry bin, making the bed and watering the plants she had gotten from the ship's garden. Tucker was thinking of suggesting she get an aquarium or something, just to add variety to her day.

He, on the other hand, spent 12 to 14 hours a day in engineering trying to unlock the secrets of the ship without revealing just how much he had learned to Mayweather or any of Sato's other toadies. On top of that, he actually had to manage engineering without running afoul of Hess or any of the other engineers. On balance, he was the one who felt more like a slave.

An exhausted slave. And her Vulcan massage mojo wasn't helping him stay awake. He felt his lids getting heavier and heavier.

"You keep that up, babe, and I'm not going to be up for anything more than sleep," he whispered.

"Do you wish to do more than sleep?" she asked.

"Always," he sighed, "but I'm fading fast."

He felt her strong hands turn him over and her legs straddle him, and he opened his eyes to see her unbuttoning her top. He sighed contentedly, allowing her to do most of the work. Later, as he enjoyed the now familiar euphoria, he remembered that he used to hate her. Looking back at those days, he felt as though he had awakened from a dream.

_Or maybe this is the dream_, he thought.

He was dimly aware of her preparing him for bed and helping him under the covers. He opened his eyes to see her redressing in her pajamas, and he looked forward to feeling her arms around him. But before that happened, sleep came.

* * *

Jonathan Archer paced in his small quarters, taking deep breaths. It had taken every ounce of self-discipline he had - and he admitted to himself he didn't have much - to keep from trying to strangle Sato. But he couldn't do that. If it were just about him, he wouldn't mind his last act to be killing her - but now - he had more to worry about than himself and his own revenge.

He had a family to worry about.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He had to find a way to get Lizzie free, and for the three of them to escape to the outer colonies or anywhere else they might be safe. Lizzie had mentioned trying to find her brother, who as far as he knew, was among the rebels. He and Tucker had always gotten along. Maybe Tucker could help them find refuge among the rebels. Lizzie was his sister, after all.

Thanks to Lizzie, he knew every which way to circumvent the surveillance system and wasn't being watched. He knelt down and pulled out a loose floorboard. He kept a box there with valuables - antiquities and artwork he had found tucked here and there around the palace. He'd carefully chosen items of value that he didn't think would be missed. They might just be useful if he needed to bribe someone for safe passage out of the palace and beyond. His freedom would come cheap. It was Lizzie who would be expensive.

The wheels of Archer's mind spun as fast they could. He knew a few men among the guards from before. Some of them even owed him favors. Since his recovery, he hadn't been shy about giving out information about Sato habits. That had to count for something. He just needed to wait for Sato to leave the palace.

He worried that nothing would convince the guards to let Lizzie go. But then again, he'd gotten a sense that most of the guards didn't want Sato to get her lunatic hands on_The Defiant'_s tech any more than he did. Apparently, the engineers working on the ship weren't exactly eager to hand over the keys to the kingdom to Sato, either. Nevertheless, given her value, bribing the guards to free Lizzie was what was going to cost him.

Archer snickered. He had made a mistake in trusting Sato; he wasn't in denial about that. But he still would have made a better Emperor than she did Empress. At least, he had made an effort to win over some key people before he took over. Sato had won over Mayweather, sure. But beyond that, she had no sense of how to win loyalty. Even Sato, slut that she was, couldn't sleep with everyone she needed on her side.

She wouldn't last long as Empress, of that he was sure.

As much as he would have liked to be around to watch her fall, he had to put Lizzie and the baby first. And the best thing for them was to get the hell out of Dodge and fast. He was sure he could make a life for them somewhere. Hell, Lizzie was no dummy. Not by a long shot. With her help, he could do great things on the frontier.

He was going to have to be patient, the opportunity for escape would come.

* * *

Lizzie lay on her back in her little cell, staring at the ceiling. The solitude felt to her like a kind of torture. Sato had forbidden her any entertainment. No books. No films. No music. Physically, she was taken care of with healthy meals and opportunities to exercise. She took advantage of her daily visits to the gym, and she practiced yoga for another hour, sometimes two each day. It helped pass the time.

When she didn't have something to occupy her, her mind wandered. Of late, she had been thinking of something Grayson has shown her, something he had obtained from the database of the futuristic ship that had caused Lizzie so much trouble. A short history of another Elizabeth Tucker, one who had lived in a better universe than the crappy one she knew. That Elizabeth, the daughter of two loving parents, with two devoted brothers, had died along with millions of others in an attack by an alien race she had never known existed.

Lizzie hummed a melancholy tune to herself. Everyone's life in that universe seemed better. Except hers. The better world didn't even offer her a fantasy of what could have been. What could have been for her was a meaningless death along with millions of others.

She placed her hands on her stomach. She had developed a habit of talking to her son, and thanks to Grayson she could tell him stories about his father in that other universe. Those stories were more interesting than the ones from this timeline, that was for sure. But the other Archer's history - one of success in the face of long odds and plentiful failures - made Lizzie confident that her son had good genes. She just needed to raise him under the right circumstances.

One afternoon, to her great surprise, Grayson walked into the jail one day with two of Sato's guards at his side.

_I wonder if the Empress has realized who her guards really work for?_ she thought.

"We can speak freely," said Grayson as he removed the force field between them, "The security system has been disabled."

Lizzie gestured that he should join her on the bench in her cell.

"As much as I'd like to get out of this room," she said sweetly, "There's nowhere to sit in the hall."

Grayson smirked at her and sat down. She wanted to ask him if he was sure it was safe to talk, but she recognized the foolishness of that. Grayson would not speak unless he was sure.

"I would enjoy the solitude while you can if I were you. Now that your brother has returned to the fold, Sato is talking about releasing you, but there's the little matter of your condition. Sato's trying to figure out how to punish you while still getting your brother to cooperate fully."

Lizzie's eyes widened. Trip had done it. He'd surrendered. The sweet, wonderful _idiot_. Tears formed in her eyes, and she wiped them away with hand.

Grayson smiled at her, the first time she had ever noticed him smiling. He sat down next to her and offered her a tissue from his pocket.

"May I offer you some tea? I am forbidden coffee and only allowed herbal tea, but I am permitted any blend I like," she said.

"That would be nice," he said.

Lizzie stood up and ordered tea from the console.

"We expect all the ducks to be in a row by tomorrow. Then, we will implement the plan when the opportunity presents itself."

Grayson put down his tea and produced a little black box from his pocket - no bigger than a ring box.

"Are you proposing, Mr. Grayson?" she laughed.

He glared at her.

"That isn't a joking matter. And while we're on the subject, I assume you wish to marry the father of your child," he sighed.

Lizzie sipped her tea.

"That seems prudent under the circumstances, don't you think?"

"Say the word, and I'll find you a less problematic man to be the father. Very few people know the paternity of your child."

She grinned.

"Now, you _can't_ be volunteering for that," she drawled. Her accent, normally very soft, got quite thick when she was teasing.

"No offense, Ms. Tucker," he said, "but I'd rather not divorce my wife for you."

"Good," she said, "because it wouldn't speak too well of you if you did."

She put down her mug and took the black box. She opened it, her eyes widened when she saw the contents.

"It's really going to happen, isn't it?"

"If you do your part," he said.

"And she doesn't even know this exists?" asked Lizzie, closing the box with a snap.

"She thinks it was destroyed," replied Grayson.

Lizzie inhaled a big breath and stuck the box into her pocket.

"Now," he continued, "We all wait."

* * *

Talas sat in her chair waiting. Liz Cutler came into the room carrying at PADD. With her Starfleet training and organizational skills, this human woman had proved invaluable since the loss of their Captain, first officer and chief engineer in such rapid succession.

Liz was basically performing all of Tolaris's duties and was therefore the new XO, but Liz insisted it was only during the interim before T'Pol and Tucker returned to the ship. She and everyone else aboard seemed to think that would occur sooner rather than later.

"Any word?"

Talas nodded.

"_The Defiant_ will reach Earth within a day or two. They won't even be docking at Jupiter Station but rather orbit around Earth. It's thought that Sato wants to make a show of the ship's power very soon. "

Liz rubbed her temples.

"You know," said Talas, "It's not likely Sato will let Elizabeth Tucker go now that her brother has returned to Starfleet. She's probably going to keep her around for leverage."

Liz sat down.

"Which means any rescue will have to include her," sighed Liz.

"Snatching people off _The Defiant _was easy. We just had to wait for the shields to go down. But the shields protecting the Imperial Palace never go down. However, the Vulcans have an operative on the inside who may be able to help us. But she's advised we wait a little while."

Liz leaned over, her face curious.

"Why?"

Talas shook her head.

"I don't know. But I suspect there's something big going on and the Vulcans may even know about it. They've been a little too quiet lately. Normally they can't wait to share all the information they obtained that the rest of us don't have. At least, information they want us to have."

Liz nodded.

"But there's not much we can do," she said, "except wait for an opportunity."

Talas closed her eyes and her antennae twitched. Andorians weren't known for their patience. But she was bound and determined to help her friends, if she could find a way.

* * *

The hallway lights of _The Defiant _were dimmed for the nighttime hours, and T'Pol, with her Vulcan sight, had to squint to find her way to the mess hall. She found it empty, and she went to one of the cabinets and removed a bottle of wine. The replicator in Tucker's cabin could not make real alcohol.

"Isn't it a bit late to be drinking?" said a female voice.

T'Pol turned to see the tough-looking human woman with the scar - Anna Hess. She was an engineer who worked closely with Charles.

"My. . .Commander Tucker requested the beverage. I am merely obtaining it."

Hess chucked and strode up to where T'Pol was standing, leaning into T'Pol's personal space in a way that made her uncomfortable. Hess examined the label on the bottle and laughed.

"Tucker looked so tired when he left engineering tonight, I'd be surprised if he was still awake," she said loudly.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. It was Hess who had summoned her to the mess hall, but she had stressed the necessity for secrecy.

"Oh, don't worry, T'Pol," said Hess brightly, locking eyes with her, "The surveillance system is on the fritz. Nobody can hear what we're saying except us."

T'Pol looked around. She didn't trust this Hess woman.

"You said you wished to speak with me," she said, carefully.

Hess laughed. reached up and touched T'Pol's face, which caused her to wince and pull away.

"Tucker always did have a crush on you. I used to see him checking you out when you'd come to engineering. When you'd leave, he'd keep his eyes right on your pretty ass. His whole crew was taking bets as to when he'd finally nail you. . . and who'd have thought he'd marry you, though? That's taking things a bit far, don't you think?"

T'Pol raised her eyebrow.

"Vulcan law doesn't apply. We aren't married as far as the Empire is concerned."

Hess laughed.

"But as far as he is concerned you are. And that means he'll listen to you."

T'Pol resisted her impulse to step away from the unpleasant woman.

"Regarding what?" inquired T'Pol.

"It's been requested strongly by someone very high up that Tucker not be in engineering tomorrow."

T'Pol's brow furrowed. The Empress herself had sent several direct orders to Charles since his surrender, including one to be in her presence the day _The Defiant_ arrived to Earth. It wasn't logical for her to send a surreptitious order through Hess.

"I have no reason to trust you," replied T'Pol.

"No," said Hess, "but you should. On this at least."

The woman held up a small vial.

"Put this in his morning coffee, and he'll be so sick that he won't make it to engineering."

T'Pol did not respond.

"Oh don't be a baby," replied Hess, "It won't kill him. It'll be better for him if he doesn't know what's going on."

"If I need to incapacitate him," whispered T'Pol, "I have my own methods."

Hess put the vial back in her pocket.

"Whatever," she said, "Just make sure he's not in engineering tomorrow."

With that, Hess left the mess hall, leaving T'Pol alone in the quiet. She sighed and returned to her quarters. Charles was still fast asleep when she slipped in bed next to him, unsure what to do.

* * *

Sato should have been feeling better. Tucker had returned to the fold, and soon _The Defiant_ would be back in Earth's orbit and its secrets would be hers. But she didn't feel better. She'd gotten several intelligence reports that Reed was working with the Romulans to amass an Armada to invade the Empire - no doubt his own head itched for a crown. She had never believed herself to have the MACOs full loyalty. They were only out for themselves.

She turned to the man beside her. Grayson. He had proved more valuable an ally than even Mayweather. She truly believed he wanted what was best for the Empire, and that was more valuable to her than anything.

"Your highness," said Grayson looking down at his PADD, "_The Defiant_ has returned to orbit - nearly a day ahead of schedule. You told me to advise you of when she arrived, so you could beam up to her immediately for inspection."

Sato inhaled a breath of relief. Although the palace was secure, there was no place more secure than _The Defiant_. And Travis would be there as well. As dim-witted as he was, she felt safer when he was around.

"I want to transport immediately," snapped Sato heading back through the chamber that led to her private transporter pad.

A young man, a MACO, was manning the controls of the pad. He eyes widened. He was handsome. _Very_ handsome. She made a mental note that she'd have to find out more about him.

"We've contacted_ The Defiant_, your highness," he said locking eyes with her with a hint of smile, "Their shields are down. They're waiting for you."

Sato stepped on the transporter pad, and she grinned at the young man.

"Whenever you are ready," she said and soon felt herself de-materializing.

* * *

The doctor bent over Charles and scanned him.

"He's certainly unconscious, but his vitals are good. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him. He should be fine."

T'Pol stood at Charles's bedside, with her hands clasped behind her back.

"I told you," she said, "We had an argument and he moved to strike me. I applied a Vulcan nerve pinch to his neck. This will make him unconscious for the next several hours."

The doctor, a dour looking human, shook his head.

"You know I'll have to report that. He'll be required to punish you for this. It probably would have been better for you to take the hit."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"Nevertheless, I'm sure he'll come up with an . . . appropriate punishment."

The doctor chuckled in a manner that indicated he wasn't at all surprised at her response.

"I won't be able to report it to Admiral Mayweather until he's done touring engineering. But let me tell you, he wasn't pleased that Tucker wasn't going to be around to show him their progress personally."

The doctor closed his bag with a snap.

"Will there be anything else?" asked T'Pol.

The doctor shook his head again and left their quarters. T'Pol then sat down in her meditation space, and it wasn't long before she found herself on the familiar Florida beach.

_ She looked down to find herself scantily clad in Terran swimming attire. _

_ Charles was standing next to her and looking out at the ocean, scarless and smiling mischievously. He had strangely enjoyed deceiving the doctor._

_"How are you?" she asked him. _

_"Fine. Better than I thought. Though I wish I could've played dead instead of you giving me the pinch." _

_ "We discussed that. The doctor's scan would have revealed your deception." _

_ He nodded and rubbed his neck._

_ "I thought it would hurt. It didn't." _

_ She looked out at the ocean. Tucker had been adamant in his trust for Anna Hess, but she was still unsure._

_ "I do trust her, baby. I know she's not exactly sweet, but I've known her for years and she's always been loyal. Honest, too. There's something about her going to you instead of me - she really didn't want me poking around down there today." _

_ "There's a rumor that The Empress herself is coming to inspect your work. Could that be what Hess wished for you to avoid?" _

_ Tucker shook his head. _

_ "I don't know. I do know I've got an invite to the palace as soon as we arrive. And I'm supposed to leave you behind." _

_ He reached over and squeezed her hand. _

_ "I don't regret not seeing Sato," said T'Pol, "but I shall regret being apart from you, even for a few hours." _

_ He smiled at her. _

_ "Can you stick around here until I wake up? I think I'd like to go for a swim. . ." _

_ She nodded in acquiescence, for the first time truly thankful she had no other pressing duties to occupy her day. _

_

* * *

_

Jonathan Archer heard the chime on his door ring. He couldn't imagine who it could be. Normally, they summoned him through the comm system.

"Come in," he said, tentatively.

The door opened, and in strode Lizzie. Before he could ask her how she'd escaped, she jumped into his arms. He caught his breath when he saw two intimating looking guards standing outside the door.

"Jon," she said, "How are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Better than fine now that you are here. But how did you escape?"

Lizzie grinned at him.

"I was let go nearly an hour ago. Big things are afoot," she replied, with air quotes surrounding let go.

Jon's heart began to beat faster, and he signaled to her that it was not safe to talk, but Lizzie only laughed.

"It's fine. You need to come with me, now. Grayson needs to speak with you. And don't worry - he's known for awhile you have all your marbles."

Lizzie took his hand tried to lead him out of his room.

"Lizzie. . ."

She grinned, and she slipped her arm into his and led him to the door.

"You've got to trust me. Grayson thinks now that. . .my brother has returned and things have changed. . .that it would be best if you made an honest woman out of me."

Jon smiled at that. He'd planned on marrying her before the baby was born. No son of his would be born illegitimate. Illegitimate children were usually taken from their mothers at birth, and he wasn't going to let that happen. But he'd planned to marry her after their escape.

But what was worrisome was that her release seemed to have convinced Lizzie she was somehow safe from Sato. He wondered if the pregnancy was affecting her thinking.

"Lizzie, Sato's pissed at you for more than just getting knocked up. . .so just getting married isn't going to make her forgive you. In all likelihood, you'll end up a slave just like me, and I couldn't bear to see you like this," he said gesturing to his black clothes and small chamber, ". . .not after all you've done to help me."

Lizzie sighed and looked at him and then gave him a quick hug.

"Grayson thinks I made a bad choice with you. Hell, _everyone_ does. But you're going to prove them wrong."

He was going to speak again, but she put her finger on his lips.

"Shhhh. . . just trust me," she whispered.

* * *

Admiral Mayweather stared into the blue and yellow light of _The Defiant_'s warp core. He didn't know jack about warp technology, but he recognized a beautiful, compact design when he saw one. It was amazing that he could stand so close.

The unpleasant woman Hess had assured him it was safe.

"Since Commander Tucker's return, we've upped the efficiency of the engines from 83% to close to 90%. Tucker thinks we can go higher, but not for sustained periods of time. He doesn't think the engine was designed to do that."

Mayweather leaned over the rail to get an even closer look at the humming light.

"Normally," said Hess, "The core is protected by a force field. But especially for your visit, I turned it off."

Mayweather was about to look up when she shoved him from behind. The last thing he felt was gravity pulling him into the yellow and blue light.

* * *

Lizzie was standing in the middle of the Imperial Throne Room and fingering her new wedding ring nervously, but she kept her eyes on the people around her. Grayson stood next to her, and with surrounding them were T'Ling, the President of the Senate, the highest ranking MACO that was still alive, and representatives from Andoria and Teller. A crowd had gathered outside the palace, and rumors were flying. Her new husband, who was not part of the conspiracy, was being kept away for his own safety.

Coups were stressful for everyone.

"Is she dead?" asked Lizzie.

"There's been a transporter accident," said Grayson, "There's not a trace of her."

Lizzie felt a tinge of sadness. Sato had to die, not just for the benefit of Lizzie and her son, but for all citizens of the Empire. Yet, over the months of her captivity, Lizzie had recognized traces of a good person beneath the bitterness and megalomania. Had circumstances been different, they might have been friends.

But Lizzie couldn't waste time thinking about that.

Sato had made some effort to reform the Empire, but she hadn't had been savvy enough to gain the allies she needed or win over those who had the power to keep her in power. She had confused the authority that comes from fear with the authority that comes from strength.

Lizzie closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I know the transporter was the quickest and easiest - and least painful - way to do it, but I wish we had a body," she said nervously.

The General in charge of the MACOs stepped forward.

"She's gone," he said, "I can assure everyone of that."

Lizzie turned to Grayson.

"What about Mayweather and _The Defiant_?"

Grayson folded his arms.

"Mayweather tripped and fell into the warp core. He was vaporized. Hess and the other engineers have control of the ship. What few men were loyal to Mayweather are in the brig. As you asked, your brother was kept away. He knew nothing of what was going to happen. _The Defiant_ is currently in orbit above."

Lizzie sighed with relief. Had anything gone wrong, she wanted Trip to have deniability. He had far more to lose than she did, and it wouldn't have been fair for her to get him all caught up in a coup that she had joined.

Lizzie nodded and pulled the little black box out of her pocket and opened it.

"Everyone is waiting, aren't they?" asked Lizzie.

Grayson nodded.

"All right," she said.

* * *

Tucker stood nervously in the receiving chamber of the Imperial Palace. As ordered, he came to see The Empress and declare his loyalty. And he had drawn on every bit of mental discipline afforded to him through the bond with his wife to appear calm and accepting of his new circumstances.

_Fat chance he was accepting_, he thought. _She's imprisoned and threatened my sister. Humiliated my wife. And forced me to work for her, giving her power she can't handle. How can I do anything but hate her?_

Tucker closed his eyes. He wasn't in quite enough of a meditative state to fully access white space, but he felt his wife's presence. He knew she was in their cabin on _The Defiant_ and sending serenity towards him.

The opposite door opened. He looked up, expecting to see Sato. Instead, he saw Lizzie - looking no worse for wear. Except, to his fury, she wore all black like a slave. It was an elaborate dress made of high quality silk, but it was still the dress of a slave.

How dare Sato make her dress that way? T'Pol had engaged in a rebellion against the Empire, but Lizzie was an innocent.

"Trip," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

She ran across the room and jumped into his arms, giving him a bear hug. He returned it in kind, lifting her from her feet.

He laughed, despite his anger at her situation.

"Lizzie. . .I'm so sorry I got you into this mess. I'm so glad you're okay," he said, "You are okay, aren't you?"

She smiled and bit her lip.

"I'm fine. And don't worry about me. And there's no need to be sorry. It's not you're fault your indispensable," she laughed.

Trip leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I am working on getting us all out of here," he said, "T'Pol and I made some friends while we were away. They can get us - you too - to safety."

He stepped back. Her expression was a strange one, he couldn't read it. Usually, he knew exactly what his sister was thinking. But he had no clue in this instance.

"You are the sweetest man in the world for wanting to rescue me," she said.

She reached up and boxed his ears, the way their mother used to when any of her kids got out of line. It stung.

"Ouch," he said, his ear ringing.

"Didn't you get my message? The one where I said I was fine and you didn't need to turn yourself in on my account?" she spat.

He gave her an exasperated look.

"Do you think I would want Sato to have the secrets _The Defiant_?" she asked, "Do you think I would want her to have that kind of power because of me?"

Tucker reached up and put a gentle hand on Lizzie's shoulder.

"Shhhhhhh. . . " he said, "You don't know who is listening."

Lizzie folded her arms.

"I think I made it clear that I had things under control," she said loudly.

His sister then paused, and tears formed in her eyes.

"I hear you were really happy on the Vulcan ship," she said, "That's what T'Ling says anyway. That you and your wife were settling in really well. . ."

Tucker shook his head.

"Kid, I couldn't live with myself if you were tortured or killed on my account. . .and as for the other stuff," his eyes shift nervously and he spoke in a very low voice, "I can give her drips and drops of information but hold back anything really dangerous."

Lizzie hugged him again.

"That's not very proper, holding back from the Empress," she said.

"No," he said, "but . . ."

"Well," said Lizzie as she shrugged, "The good news is that Sato's dead. The MACOs arranged a transporter accident for her two days ago. So, crazy has left the palace."

Relief such as he had never felt in his life washed over Tucker's whole body. That was followed by dread. Sato could have easily been replaced by someone worse.

"So, the MACOs have taken over? Who'd they put in charge?"

Lizzie looked at him.

"It wasn't just the MACOs. Starfleet. The Senators. Representatives from Mars. It was a coalition of the disenchanted."

Tucker put his hands on her shoulders. That was better, but Reed was still out there somewhere.

"But Lizzie, you don't want the MACOs to have too much power. Major Reed - an ex-MACO and all around sociopath - has made friends with the Romulans. They want to put him on the throne."

Lizzie laughed at that.

"Reed has a few allies left among the MACOs, but we know who they are for the most part. And Reed will have a less easy time than Sato hanging on to power - should the Romulans help him grab it. But that's not going to happen. The _new_ Empress will see to that," she said.

Tucker rolled his eyes.

"Who is it?"

Lizzie glanced around the room, as if she was about to tell him a big secret.

"The coalition wanted someone the people could believe in. Someone who was young and idealistic but not stupid or weak. Someone who could make reforms. Someone willing to listen to advisors but willing to make her own decisions. Someone capable of making alliances rather than oppressing other species. . .someone from an old respectable family. . .but without ties to the corruption of the last few regimes. . . ."

Lizzie slowly lifted up her left hand to reveal she was wearing two rings. One looked like a wedding ring. The other was a ring with the Imperial seal on it. The Emperor's Ring.

She bit her lip and smiled.

"It seems like I've got a new job, big brother? Wanna help me make the world a better place?"

Tucker felt his mouth drop open and his knees nearly buckle.

"Don't joke about that Lizzie," he said.

"Not joking."

"You're wearing the clothes of a slave," he replied.

"I'm a slave to the people of the Empire," she said, standing up straight.

She wasn't kidding, the look in her eyes said so.

"But how. . . "

Lizzie took his arm and led him toward a bench in the corner and helped him sit down. She sat next to him, holding his hand, which was trembling.

"A conspiracy had been brewing since before Sato took over. . .her coup put the plans on hold. They were waiting to see if she was someone they could work with. . .sadly for her. . .she wasn't. It's too bad, too, underneath the madness, I think there was some worth in her. Anyway, the conspirators weren't motivated by a desire for power - none of them wanted this job - that's for damn sure."

Tucker looked at his sister. Really looked at her. He was almost scared of the steel determination in her eyes.

"But you took it?"

She nodded.

"I've got plans. Plans to make the Empire stronger. I think they might work. . .but I'll need your help. I mean. . unlike Sato my plans don't hinge on the _The Defiant_'s technology . . .but unlocking it's secrets certainly won't hurt. Also, I'm going to need your wife. . .and her connection to the Vulcans. We're going to need them as allies. The Tellerites and Andorians, too."

Tucker blinked. He had half-expected her to object to his relationship with T'Pol, but she didn't. He was both relieved and touched.

"Oh," she said, "and I got married just before they declared me Empress - it had to be quick because I'm already pregnant. I believe you know him. . ."


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Rating: PG - No smut and only mild violence - but that will change before the story winds down.

* * *

Tucker hadn't said more than five words in the past hour. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming, the victim of some elaborate deception or if his sister really had usurped Sato as Empress.

Lizzie certainly looked. . .not insane. They were seated in chairs by a window that overlooked the bay. A servant had brought Trip a drink - bourbon - but Lizzie was drinking herbal tea.

He had already downed two glasses, and he craved more.

Trip listened to the story of her imprisonment, and how she had gradually been noticed by the cabal that had placed her on the throne.

"As I said, I'm not a figurehead," she explained, "They didn't want a puppet. They wanted someone who could do the job, with their help of course. But I don't have much time to prove myself. Anyone would have looked good in the face of Sato's. . .eccentricity. When the memories start to fade and reality sets in, that's when things will get dangerous."

Lizzie smiled.

"By the way, I sent some Imperial Guards to take Mom and Dad into custody - for their own protection. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with them, but I didn't want them peddling favors that I have no intention of granting. . .or worse. I suppose I don't want them kidnapped either."

Tucker nodded very slowly. The Empress thing. . .he could probably deal with that. As long as Lizzie didn't get overthrown, it could benefit him. But her other bit of news. . .the bit about Jonathan Archer. That was. . .more problematic.

"And of course I'm going to have to find something useful for Jon to do. He's not going to be content carrying around my robes of state. But I have to find something that makes him feel important that he can't screw up. It's quite a puzzler."

Tucker inhaled. Jonathan Archer. The man whose arrogance and incompetence had nearly gotten him killed more than once. The man who had tried to make T'Pol his personal concubine . . .despite hating Vulcans. The man who had been dumb enough to trust Sato.

Tucker used all the Vulcan tricks that he'd picked up from T'Pol to keep his disgust off of his face. Instead, he spoke carefully.

"So. . .you're not going to make him Emperor?"

Lizzie laughed.

"Hell no. If I had even suggested that, I think the cabal would have smothered him in his sleep. No, they're fine with me being married. They even think moving toward hereditary succession is a good idea, given the instability of the past few regimes. But they made me promise that Jon can never be regent let alone Emperor. In fact, if anything happens to me before little Charles's eighteenth birthday - they're going to kill Jon. Still haven't broken that news to him yet - I have to wait for the right moment."

Tucker was silent. Lizzie looked up at him.

"You don't mind that I'm naming the boy after you, do you? I mean. . .Charles is regal sounding, isn't it? And that doesn't mean you can't name your first son, Charles."

Tucker shook his head.

"Speaking of which, I hear you got married yourself."

Tucker nodded, still speechless with shock and unsure of how much Lizzie knew. Or how she would react. Aside from one miserable family vacation to Mars, Lizzie had never left Earth. He knew her interaction with aliens had been limited at best.

"What's she like?" asked Lizzie, "I, mean, Jon told me a little about her. But obviously you know her better."

Tucker bit his lip. What the hell did Archer know about T'Pol, except her ability to apply a nerve pinch. He was about to answer, when the back door of the chamber opened up. In strode Jonathan Archer, dressed in a Starfleet uniform which sported an admiral's rank. He smiled at Tucker.

"Good to see you, Tucker," he said, "I'm sure Lizzie has filled you in. . ."

He didn't finish. Tucker's fist had made contact with his face before he could continue, and he doubled over in pain. Tucker then leaned down and struck a blow in his stomach.

The blow hurt his hand, and Tucker shook it in pain before Archer stood up and attempted to retaliate. Lizzie had gotten between them. She looked pissed, but before she could speak, he did.

"Don't gimme that look Lizzie. He deserved it. You have no idea how much he deserved it. . ."

"What did I ever do to you?" ask Archer, hurt in his voice.

Tucker inhaled.

"It's what you did to my baby sister. . .oh, and to my wife. I know what you tried to do to her on _The Defiant_."

Archer rubbed his jaw as Lizzie examined it.

"That was before you two were married. And she was able to handle herself. And nothing happened thanks to her Vulcan pincher move," spat Archer, speaking more as though he were explaining to Lizzie than anything else.

Lizzie's mouth gaped open a little and her brow furrowed.

"I have to meet this woman," she mumbled.

"Last time I checked, the punishment for striking a member of the Imperial Family was death," said Archer.

Tucker glared at Archer, thinking only that hitting him had been worth getting executed over, but Lizzie shook her head.

"That's only the Emperor or Empress. . .and actually . . . the sibling of the Emperor outranks the consort. . .of course, that law assumed that the Emperor would be male and the consort female but rules are rules. . . but Trip, don't do that again."

Tucker stared at his little sister, realizing that while he didn't have to listen to Archer - something that he would be eternally grateful for - he did have to listen to her. She was the Empress.

Lizzie leaned in and placed a hand on Archer's shoulder.

"It looks like you might have a bruise. . .but you'll be okay. . . I should've warned you. It's kind of a Tucker family tradition for my brothers to rough up my boyfriends. . .and you're the only one who has managed to knock me up," she paused and turned to her brother, "but that's enough of that. I'm hardly secure on this throne, and I'm going to need all the help I can get to stay on it. Besides, if I'm knocked off this perch - you two are as good as dead. So, we're all in this together."

Tucker continued to give Archer his best death stare and wondered if T'Pol knew some Vulcan mojo that could make Archer pay for. . .being Archer.

"The family — and our new glorious endeavor — will only grow stronger," said Lizzie, "if we can manage to put differences behind us."

Archer was staring back at him, more confused than angry. But then again, he was always under the mistaken impression they were friends. They had never been friends. Tucker just thought he owed him. . .he never liked him.

At that point, some kind of attendant came into the room with an animal carrier in each hand. Lizzie turned her attention away from her brother and husband and toward the carriers.

"Mr. Boo! Elvis!" she cried into the carriers, tears in her eyes, "I never thought I'd see you two again."

Archer looked puzzled, and Tucker caught his eye.

"Her cats," he mumbled.

"And Mrs. Sommerville, the woman who had been caring for them?" asked Lizzie of the attendant.

"Given a lifetime pension, just as you decreed, Empress," he replied.

After nodding and dismissing the attendant, Lizzie took the two plump felines out of their carriers and placed them at her feet. The two animals meowed and brushed against her legs. She bent over and scratched their ears.

"You two are going to have the run of this palace," said Lizzie, "There's plenty of sunny spots."

Archer smiled at her. Not one of his nasty smirks. A real, honest-to-goodness smile and Tucker felt his stomach turn.

_Holy shit. He loves her. . . This is gonna get weird_, he thought.

* * *

T'Pol paced in her and Tucker's quarters, looking down at her Vulcan robes. She no longer wore the clothes of a slave, but she wasn't sure why. A steward had arrived earlier in the day and told her to remove her black garments. When T'Pol protested she had no other clothes to wear, she was given access to the ship's advanced replication system and told to produce "whatever she liked."

She had spent a few diverting hours creating new clothes for herself, but she remained concerned. She assumed Tucker had managed to convince the Empress to give her her freedom, but she could not imagine what he had promised in exchange for it. She had not heard from her husband all day, and she felt it necessary to meditate to suppress her nervousness.

She knew something had happened, but she trusted no one among the crew enough to ask - even Hess. She hadn't seen Mayweather in a significant amount of time, either.

Finally, the door of her quarters opened and rather than a steward, she was relieved to see Charles. He had not contacted her either through the communication system or their bond, and she had become somewhat concerned. He wore his red Starfleet shirt still, and he smiled at her. He also wore some sort of Imperial insignia around her arm.

She stood up and allowed him to embrace her, and she returned the embrace, placing her head on his shoulder. His familiar coolness was very comforting to her, and she relaxed against his body.

"I'm pleased you have returned unscathed," she said.

"I'm more than unscathed. How much do you know about what has been going on lately?"

She told him about her change of wardrobe and lack of information. After that, they sat down on the edge of their bed, and he followed with a rather extraordinary story about a coup - and his sister's ascension to Empress. Sato, Mayweather and their supporters were dead.

"It seems arresting your sister was a mistake on Sato's part," said T'Pol, digesting the strange tale.

"I'll say," he said. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it. I feel less safe than I did when Sato was in charge, but I'm sort of proud. I always knew Lizzie had potential."

T'Pol brushed her hand across Tucker's cheek, and he took her hand and kissed it. Tucker seemed as though he was still in shock.

"But Jonathan Archer," she replied, "That's unfortunate."

Tucker rolled his eyes.

"I love my sister, but she's never had much taste in men. I once asked her why she never found a guy as smart as her — and she just mumbled something about not being able to find one smarter than her."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow, and thought it was a shame that Tucker's sister had lowered herself so much. T'Pol could have found a Vulcan mate for her, if she was as intelligent as Tucker said she was.

"It gets worse," he said glumly.

T'Pol looked at him.

"She's making Archer an Admiral and putting him in charge of the Imperial Fleet. That means he'll get to be in charge of _The Defiant_ when she's not making him . . .do whatever she makes him do when he's attending to her."

T'Pol thought about this, and she noticed her mate looked a bit ill. His expression was sour, to be sure.

"That seems an ill-conceived decision," replied T'Pol.

Tucker shook his head.

"It's actually pretty clever. She's not making him High Admiral, she's going to find a real strategist for that. She's just making Archer the figurehead of the fleet — a fleet I'm going to help her upgrade. He'll get to play with The Defiant and make speeches, two things he likes to do. The real work will be in the hands of a professional."

T'Pol shook her head. Archer. This was disagreeable.

"As for who is gonna be day to day Captain — I put in a good word for you."

T'Pol nodded. Life had suddenly changed. Although the situation was preferable to being enslaved to Sato, she found herself missing the days on _The Selok _when they had been distant from the intrigues and egos of Imperial power.

* * *

Far away, on an unfamiliar ship, Sato opened her eyes. She was in a dark, austere little cell of unfamiliar design. She looked down at herself, and she was no longer wearing the Imperial garb she had on when she stepped on to the transporter. She wore strange, black garments and noticed that she had bruises on her arms. From the aches in the rest of her body, she suspected that she had bruises elsewhere.

Her heart started to beat, and she wondered if she was dead and in hell. She realized that she wasn't when she looked up through the bars of her cell to see the smiling face of Malcolm Reed. A chill went down her spine, and she fainted.


	26. Chapter 26

_Rating: R for sex and violence._

_A/N: Thanks for the beta and advice, Aquarius. _

* * *

T'Pol, dressed in formal Vulcan robes, stood in the grand receiving hall of the palace, on a special dais she had learned was reserved for members of the Imperial Family. Above her, on the ceiling was a mural depicting great moments in the Empire, including the conquest of Vulcan.

It was a jarring adjustment, going from slave to member of the Imperial Family in twenty-four hours. Because of her newly public position, she was grateful that she had had time to meditate that morning. She wanted to appear in complete control under the scrutiny of the many courtiers. She stared out at the crowd of people, mostly humans, but other species as well. Her keen hearing had picked up whispering about how shocking it was that the new Empress's brother had a Vulcan wife, but no one had dared expressed this directly to her.

"I've never seen you in Vulcan get-up before," said a familiar voice from behind her. She turned to see Jonathan Archer. He wore an admiral's uniform adorned with imperial green trim in addition to assorted metals and honors. She stared at him but said nothing.

"It suits you," he said.

Still, she said nothing. There was silence for several uncomfortable moments.

"Sorry about the whole thing on_ The Defiant_. Now that we're in-laws, it's probably best if we make peace."

"What thing are you talking about? Attempting to overthrow the government and make yourself Emperor, with a plan to oppress my people? Attempting to coerce me into sexual relations? Or ordering my execution?"

Archer laughed agreeably.

"I was talking about the middle one, since I'm not sorry about the other two. But you're in luck. My wife likes Vulcans. She wants to make them equal in the Empire. I've changed my mind, too. . . And, if we are going to bring up the past, you did lead a revolt that got a lot of people killed, didn't you?"

"You did the same. We both failed in our goals."

"Touche," he replied, "and now we're family."

T'Pol thought she tasted bile in her mouth, and she suppressed her bubbling negative emotion. Charles loved his sister and for reasons unknown - his sister had married Jonathan Archer. And she was Empress. The Vulcan attache in the palace, who was a Syrannite who reported to T'Pau, had told her that Empress Elizabeth was shrewd and intelligent and that the Vulcans were supporting her.

All of this added up to it being logical to make peace with Jonathan Archer.

T'Pol nodded slowly.

"Yes," she said, "We are family."

A young man approached them with a tray of snacks. All of them appeared to contain meat, so T'Pol refused but Archer helped himself to a generous assortment. He ate them voraciously.

"I can't believe you married Tucker of all people. . .I mean everyone knew he had a thing for _you_. . .but I thought you had, you know, high Vulcan standards. Don't get me wrong, he's a great engineer . . .but he hardly seems like husband material to me. Too morose."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. The insult to her mate caused more emotion that required suppression.

"I find my mate satisfactory," she replied.

"That makes two of us. I mean. . .I find _my_ mate, _the Empress_, satisfactory."

Archer had squared his shoulders and was grinning. He was certainly happy with the turn of events, although Charles had told her that the Empress was keeping the fact that she had no intention of sharing power secret from Archer. Charles called it "stringing him along."

The two of them stared at each other in awkward silence for a few moments, when an attendant summoned T'Pol into the inner chamber.

"You'll like her, I promise,' said Archer as she followed the attendant.

T'Pol entered the room, which was neither large or particularly small and was bathed in light from the large windows. She saw Charles and a young woman, all clad in black, seated in front of a work table. A small feline sat in the window sill, and another one lay in a sunbeam near the new Empress's feet.

Elizabeth Tucker stood up and T'Pol made a formal bow.

The Empress smiled. "You don't need to do that behind closed doors. Only in public. You're family," she said in an accent that matched Charles's.

"Thank you, Empress," she said.

"Again," replied Lizzie, "You can call me Lizzie behind closed doors." She leaned forward and then stood there for a second. "I'd hug you but I know Vulcans don't like that."

"That is true," she said, "Thank you for respecting that."

Charles joined her, standing by her side.

"Lots of stuff is going on," he said, "We need the Vulcans' help. Not only would it help to have their expertise working on _The Defiant _- we need all the information we can get about The Romulans."

T'Pol looked at the Empress. The young woman began to speak, quickly and in a clipped tone. "We have some intelligence that suggests the Romulans are trying to work from within to collapse the Empire. Prior to Sato taking over, they had taken a number of steps to destabilize the regime," said Lizzie, "and it looks like they've penetrated the MACOs. It seems that they've promised the MACOs a military regency over Earth and the Imperial territories if they assist in our conquest."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. The young woman got a mischievous grin on her face. Mischievous, but intense. She knelt down and petted one of the cats that was rubbing itself on the skirt of her very fine black dress.

"Don't worry, we're watching carefully. But we don't want to tip them off just yet. We'd rather wait and see just where this thing goes."

T'Pol looked at Charles, and he looked deadly serious. The situation was dangerous, and they both understood that.

"I have lots of questions to ask you about the Vulcans. . and this T'Pau. I need to know if I can trust her at all. . . ."

As the Empress began to speak, T'Pol knew that there were great changes in store for everyone in the Empire.

* * *

Hoshi opened her eyes slowly. She was no longer in the cell, but in a small bedroom. She didn't know what planet she was on, but the heavy gravity indicated it was not Earth. She saw a desert landscape out the window, and Malcolm Reed seated in a chair next to her bed. His expression was a curious blank.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I've been beaten and left for dead," replied Hoshi softly.

He leaned forward and touched her cheek.

"You would be dead, if I hadn't arranged for your rescue. You managed to alienate nearly everyone in the palace. . .the plotting against you came from all sides. The MACOs were going to let you die until I told them to retrieve you."

She squinted and rubbed her forehead.

"Where am I?"

Reed smiled strangely.

"I'll inform you of that when your ready to know," he said, lifting back his hand and leaning back in his chair. His eyes remained on her.

It was odd. Reed was one of the few officers on _Enterprise_ who she hadn't slept with or tried to sleep with. She'd caught him staring a few times, in what she thought was a nonsexual way. She'd assumed he was a homosexual and hadn't bothered with him. But maybe he wasn't. In any case, he'd saved her life and he was in control. She knew of only one way to get that control back.

"I suppose I owe you a thank you," she said, throwing off the metallic blanket that covered her. She began to unbutton her shirt, but Reed quickly stood up and stopped her with an iron grip.

"There will be none of that," he said sharply.

She took her hand away and was quiet. If he didn't want sex, what did he want? Why had he brought her here? She guessed information, but she wasn't sure.

"You know,' he said, "It always sickened me to see a beautiful, accomplished woman like yourself would become such a slut. Lying down for any and all the men on the ship. . ."

She glared at him. "Only the officers," she snapped.

He slapped her across the face.

"Don't speak to me unless you're spoken to," he said clearly, "You are what's wrong with the Empire. You embody it. You have so much to offer, and yet you allowed yourself to become corrupted and impure. . .to take the easy, selfish path. . ." his voice drifted off.

She bit back a tart reply, and she noticed - for the first time - a glint of desire in his eyes. She nearly laughed out loud. For all his noble pretensions, she'd have him the way she'd had all the others. If she played her cards right.

"The cabal that overthrew you have put some kind of a puppet on your throne. . .a young woman they think will inspire the people. They're wrong. They need a strong leader. Someone who can lead the Empire back to its pure and noble state."

So, that's why he snatched her, she thought. He wanted the throne, having someone who had been on it would help him get it - in both practical and symbolic ways.

"If I can purify you," he whispered, "I can purify the Empire. With you at my side, the people will understand. They'll see what I'm capable of doing."

Hoshi lowered her eyes.

"You are going to start your road to redemption by telling me everything you know about Earth's defenses," said Reed, "You must have learned a great deal during your short time on the throne."

Hoshi did her best not to smile. She wouldn't make the same mistake she did with Archer. When she was done with Reed, she wouldn't leave him alive. Not even to be a slave in the palace he was going to help her get back.

* * *

Tucker hated politics, hated intrigue and hated knowing things that would put a target on his back. As proud as he was of Lizzie, he didn't like the palace and was secretly a little irked with her for putting him there. The whole situation stressed him out, and he decided the best way to deal with that was to enjoy his wife's company. He hadn't even bothered to take her into the bedroom when they had gotten back to their suite of rooms. Instead, he had stripped them out of their clothes and pushed her to the richly carpeted floor. The room, like most of the palace, was bathed in the light which emanated from large windows that overlooked the bay.

T'Pol was beneath him. Her eyes were shut, and she moaned softly. It occurred to him that he had never been with her like this, in the light of day and, even better, on his own planet. That was an upside their newest circumstances.

Through the bond, he could tell the events of the past few days had disrupted the serenity she had maintained during her time as a slave. It was almost as though she preferred that life to the new one that had come upon them. Ironically, both her slavery and her current status royal status had both come about because of him. And she had accepted both for his sake.

"Open your eyes, baby," he whispered, "I want you to look at me."

She obeyed, and he smiled down at her.

He chuckled slightly as his own pleasure began to overtake him. She would never be comfortable admitting how much she enjoyed this, and he loved how vulnerable it made her when she spoke such words aloud.

"That was amazin', darlin'," he said when they were both spent, noting she was flushed green in the cheeks.

"I enjoyed it as well," she replied, her arms still around him.

"I could tell," he laughed, "but I still like when you admit it."

He rolled off her and took her into his arms. He sighed deeply, and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"It's gonna be okay," he said.

* * *

Lizzie's bed was of ornate gold and platinum and was so big it felt like it was going to swallow her and Jon. It was obviously designed with more than sleeping . . .and more than two people in mind. It was also ugly. She'd have to get rid of it.

She shivered slightly, and she slipped her naked, still thin form under the covers. She'd noticed some subtle changes in her body, but nothing major as of yet.

Lizzie was exhausted, not from affairs of the state or being pregnant. But from the attentions of her husband, whom she suspected of trying to gain honors and power from her through sexual favors.

_It might work_, she though sleepily.

She glanced over at his prostrate form, noting that he had clearly exhausted himself as well.

"Your sure this won't hurt the baby?" he whispered.

"The doctor says it's fine. . .right up until the due date. Though some positions will probably be out by then," she replied.

The communicator next to her chirped and she answered it.

"_The special delivery you requested has arrived, your highness._"

"Thank you," she replied, "Send him in."

Jon sat up, looking at her with curiosity.

"It's a gift for you," she said.

The door to their bedroom opened, and a black Rottweiler bounded into the room and up onto the bed and began to slobber on Jon's face. He looked at her with wonder.

"Porthos," he said, "Good to see you, Boy."

The big dog wiggled and wagged his tail, clearly elated to see his former master.

"I thought you were dead, boy," he said.

Lizzie smiled.

"He was on _The Defiant_. Sato hadn't bothered with him, but one of the stewards took in him in and was using him as guard dog. After I got my kitties back, it occurred to me to find out what happened to your dog. . .and see if I could get him back for you."

Jon looked at her with wonder, as if no one had ever done a kind thing for him in his life.

"Thank you," he stammered, his voice breaking slightly.

Lizzie smiled, truly happy to see how happy she had made him. Nobody should be forced to lose a pet. She also hoped this would put him off asking her for more power and favors, at least for a few days. Besides, she did have plans for him.

"You'll want to take him on your next mission, on _The Defiant_."

He looked at her, puzzled.

"_The Defiant'_s your ship, after all. You should be the one in command when she destroys the secret Romulan base on Vulcan."

He smiled at her, genuinely.

"The Vulcans have decided to throw in their lot with us, rather than their cousins. That wasn't the case with the last two regimes. But, since I've got a Vulcan in the family and I've made a good impression on some of their spies. . .oh, I'm sorry . . ._attaches . . ._" Lizzie made air quotes around the word attache. "Anyway, T'Pau send us the coordinates of the Romulan base, and she's going to have the cloaked Romulan ship they have assist _The Defiant_. T'Pol tells me that the Andorian woman in charge of that ship can be trusted. Anyway. . .You'll take Trip, of course, and T'Pol will be your first officer."

Jon started to stammer a reply, but she kept talking.

"I'll get you all the details in the morning," she said sweetly kissing him on the mouth, hoping that between the superior technology and the element of surprise, Jon wouldn't be able to screw this up. He needed to feel like he was important.

"You'll have to act soon," she said, "I want you back in plenty of time for the birth."


	27. Chapter 27 The Conclusion

_Okay - Aside from a few loose ends to be handled in the sequel, it's all wrapped up here. As happy an ending as one could expect out of the MU. Thanks to Crystalswolf and Aquarius for all their help, advice and beta services. Obviously, the MU is a fun place to play - and I'm sure I'll want to revisit soon._

* * *

Lizzie stared down at the four different PADDs on her desk, all requiring her attention immediately. She sipped on her tea and organized them carefully one by one. The first contained recommendations about upgrades to the Defense grids, which she decided to implement using funds generated by the new trade agreement with Tellar.

The next one contained information about a labor dispute with the mining guild on Mars. She decided to send Grayson to mediate rather than send the MACOs in to break the strike, though that option had to remain on the table, at least as far as the miners were concerned. She authorized him to agree to safety upgrades and shorter working hours but no more than a 3% hike in wages until the capacity came up to 90%. She hoped the safety upgrades would reduce the downtime and compensate for the reduced hours.

The next PADD was an intelligence report, which contained information about Colonel Hayes's communication with Malcolm Reed, who was planning an invasion from the Romulan base on Vulcan. Thankfully, PADD number 4 presented a solution to that. If Lizzie agreed to put T'Pau and the Syrannite faction in charge of Vulcan, they would support the removal of the Romulan base from Vulcan. _The Defiant_ would lead a small fleet of ships, including a Romulan ship that was in the possession of the Vulcans, and destroy the base.

The absence of the base would make an invasion harder for the Romulans. Harder, but not impossible. From what she was told about Romulans, the attack on the base would only make them more determined. Once the Romulans decided to annex a section of space, nothing short of the complete annihilation of their fleet would deter them.

"Their determination is both a strength and a weakness, depending on the circumstances," T'Ling, the Vulcan attache had said to her.

Lizzie sighed. A chime rang at the door, and in walked her sister-in-law, now dressed in a Starfleet uniform, complete with the bare midriff and a special green pip to indicate she was a member of the Imperial Family. Lizzie had promoted her to Commander and planned to make her a Captain if the mission went right.

The woman wore a blank expression, typical of a Vulcan. But Lizzie also saw something - a sparkle of curiosity in her eyes. She knew Trip wasn't the type to fall for a cold fish, and she was sure there was a whole lot more to T'Pol than met the eye.

"Good Afternoon, Lizzie," said T'Pol.

"Afternoon, T'Pol," she said, "Have a seat. Have you heard from Trip? Is he still up on _The Defiant_ today?"

Her sister-in-law nodded as she sat down across from Lizzie. "He plans to transport back to the palace when his shift is finished. He wishes the engines to be in optimum condition for the upcoming mission to Vulcan."

"I hear you're gonna get to see your Mom, if all goes well. You must be happy about that," said Lizzie. Trip had told her that T'Pol and her mama had parted on tense terms.

"I am looking forward to seeing her."

"I'm glad," said Lizzie, "I'm sorry I can't authorize more than a few days. But the project to research and implement the tech from _The Defiant_ and the Romulan ship - _The Selok_ - is going to be based part time on Vulcan. So, you and Trip will be able to spend more time there in a few months."

T'Pol nodded.

Now it was time to bring up the awkward subject. Lizzie sighed.

"You know, I'm making you second in Command on the upcoming mission."

Her sister-in-law nodded again. Lizzie inhaled and bit her lip.

"I know Jon's . . .I know he can be difficult. But I think the plan we've developed is a good one. It'll be tough for him to screw it up, especially with you and Trip there to make sure he doesn't."

The Vulcan woman raised her eyebrow.

"You know him," said Lizzie, "His ego sometimes clogs his brain. That's why he has to be in charge of this. If he feels like he's not doing enough, he'll make trouble. And I don't want him in trouble. I want him happy."

"I will do my best to help you achieve all your goals," replied T'Pol.

Lizzie exhaled. "Good . . .Trip told me. . .told me what Jon used to be like. How he treated you. I really. . .I appreciate it. Things are gonna change. I can't work miracles, but I'll make him behave better. The Empire, too."

The Vulcan woman was hard to read, but Lizzie guessed she didn't know how to respond to that. She had a right to be skeptical. Hell, Lizzie would be skeptical if she were in the Vulcan's shoes. Lizzie thought it best to switch topics.

"Okay, on to more interesting topics. I had my head science guy do some checking around. There's a couple of Vulcan physicians that are working on making human/Vulcan hybrid children possible. They think it'll be best to try it first with a Vulcan mother and a human father. I took the liberty of volunteering you and Trip as research subjects."

T'Pol looked away for a moment, and then returned her gaze to Lizzie. Lizzie was gratified to see surprise on her face.

"I haven't told Trip," continued Lizzie, "I thought I'd run it by you first. Trip's always wanted a family. But I don't know about you. . . "

The Vulcan woman tilted her head to one side slightly and appeared to be thinking carefully.

"If the methodology was deemed safe. . .it would be gratifying to attempt to have a child."

Lizzie pulled her chair closer. She wanted to reach out and grab the woman's hands, but she knew better. Instead, she chose to lock eyes with the woman. All the Vulcan stuff was taking some time to get used to.

"If all goes well on this mission," said Lizzie, "You can bring the scientists back and they'll begin the project. It's important to me. . .I want Vulcan and Terra to become closer. If there are royal children with Vulcan blood, that will certainly further my goal."

The Vulcan woman's hands absently went to her own stomach, and she looked down at Lizzie's stomach.

"The morning sickness is hell, but otherwise I'm doing great. Little Charles is doing just fine. And I think he'll want cousins, don't you?"

T'Pol furrowed her brow. "I did not realize humans had telepathic connections with their unborn children. Do you really know your son's desires?"

Lizzie smiled, and she was intrigued. Trip had made several references to Vulcan telepathy but she hadn't pressed him for details. "No, I'm just speculating," she replied.

She was also speculating about how useful truly loyal Vulcans could be to the Empire. Logic. Strength. Telepathy. Honesty. It was all going to add up to good things, as far as Lizzie was concerned. And with T'Pol as a member of the Imperial family, it was going to be easier to convince the Vulcans that things had changed at the the top tier of the Empire, at least.

Lizzie only wished that she could give the same treatment to the Andorians and Tellarites. It was too bad her other brother had disappeared into the outer colonies all those years ago. She heard this Shran, the Andorian that she needed on her side, was looking for a husband, and from what she'd heard, he and her brother Albert might have gotten along famously. She sighed and resolved to check on the secret police's search for her other brother as soon as she got a moment. Not only did she miss Albert, she had a dynasty to build.

* * *

Malcolm Reed carried an unconscious, naked Hoshi into his quarters. She'd endured the Romulans version of the Booth, which Reed himself had helped them upgrade, with great courage. But she broke, as he knew she would. Her pleas for mercy had nearly touched his heart, but he reminded himself that her pain was for her own good. She needed to suffer in order to be purified, and mercy would only harm her in the long run. He'd been proven correct in that instinct when her pleas turned to profane curses and promises to do him violence.

His servant, Tolaris, who was both blind and dismembered, but still quite strong and useful, followed closely behind him.

"Are you sure I cannot carry her for you, sir?" said the Vulcan in his artificial voice. Tolaris's conversion had taken as much time as Hoshi's, and Malcolm hadn't worried about damaging his beauty during the process. But Vulcan's were strong-minded bastards.

"No," snapped Malcolm, "She's my responsibility. I'll take care of her. You may return to your rooms."

Tolaris bowed and left him alone with Hoshi, who looked positively radiant.

It had taken nearly three days, but eventually she could no longer speak. She no longer recognized her name. The Romulan Booth, unlike the Terran version, left a few burns on her skin, but those would heal in time. The important thing was that she was cleansed of the filth that had infected her. She could be his now.

He carefully bathed her and dressed her in a white gown. He carried her to the bed and gently tucked her under the silver blanket. He slipped in next to her and gently caressed her pale cheek. She would be Empress again, and with him at her side, she would be protected.

* * *

Talas appeared on the viewscreen of _The Defiant_. T'Pol's immediate instinct was to greet her friend, but she stayed silent. Jonathan Archer was the ranking officer on the bridge, and it was his job to greet the captain of _The Selok_.

"You must be Talas, " said Archer, "I understand you're going to initiate the surprise we've got coming for the Romulans."

Talas's antennae twitched, and she smirked. "Unless your ship has a cloak, that's the plan."

T'Pol and Talas's eyes met, and T'Pol felt satisfaction that Talas would not prostrate herself to the Empire. She might be willing to join the mission and even take orders from a human, but she would not be a slave to the Terrans. Thanks to the new Empress, that was no longer expected.

"No cloak. Yet," replied Archer smoothly, "but give us time. The research project you've agreed to join should take care of that soon enough."

Talas smiled, "That reminds me. Say hello to your chief engineer for me when you get a minute. We miss him and his wife around here."

Archer turned and looked at T'Pol. "I'll send them over for a reunion, assuming everything goes smoothly."

"I'll hold you to that, Admiral," replied Talas before turning her gaze to T'Pol, "Your old room is just how you left it, Captain. We were hoping you'd return to us sooner rather than later. Of course, these were hardly the circumstances we expected."

T'Pol nodded.

"I trust these are better circumstances, with none of us as fugitives and all looking at a better future."

"I'll drink to that, once this is done," replied Talas before turning back to Archer, "Admiral, we've received the tactical instructions and will await your command to commence."

"Very good, Captain," replied Archer before cutting off communication. Archer glanced over at T'Pol curiously, but she did not look up at him. She didn't know what he knew about her life on _The Selok_, and she was in no mood to enlighten him.

* * *

Hoshi heard noises. Bad noises. It was the middle of the night, and she sat up in bed. She was alone with no sign of Malcolm, and she smelled fire and heard screaming. The air was strangely fresh, and she recognized the smell of the outside desert mixed with fire and burning flesh. The artificial atmosphere was gone.

She got up and ran into the hall, where Malcolm came running.

"C'mon, love," he said, "We're getting out here. Seems the Vulcans are evicting their cousins. We're headed for Romulan space," he said.

Hoshi looked up at the Vulcan sky through the hole in the ceiling. She saw maybe a dozen ships overhead, all of different design.

"The Romulans tell me," said Malcolm, "that your old friend Jonathan Archer is leading the charge. Seems he delivered the eviction notice."

Hoshi's body tensed at the name, and she seethed. She didn't remember why she hated the man attached to the name, but she knew that she did. She glared up at the sky. Malcolm's firm hand grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"It seems the MACOs on Earth have been rounded up. No one knows if they are dead or in prison. Our plans to go home have hit a setback, but they will be permanently finished if we don't get out of here now. Our ship awaits."

She reached out and he took her hand as they headed toward their escape. As confused as she was, Hoshi knew this was not the end.

* * *

Talas and T'Pol made their way down to the engineering room of _The Selok_, where Tucker was busy helping Kov tune up the warp drive. He hadn't been assigned the task, but he had volunteered.

"I'm sorry to hear you will be returning to Andoria after the project begins," said T'Pol to Talas, "and won't be with us throughout the duration."

Talas sighed. "Part of me wishes I was staying, but even though the ships will be kept combat ready - there won't be much for me to do while you science types are finding out all her little secrets. In any case, I need to spend some time with my husband and my wife after the wedding."

T'Pol heard laughter coming from the engineering room. Human laughter. As she and Talas turned the corner, she saw Liz Cutler standing with Kov and Tucker and the three of them appeared amused by something. She even detected a slight smile from Kov.

"Hello Captains," said Liz. "We've missed you, T'Pol."

"And I you all," said T'Pol, "and I'm pleased you'll be rejoining Starfleet."

Liz grinned at Tucker. "Thanks to my sudden acquaintance with a member of the Imperial Family, I'm being commissioned as an officer and will serve here on _The Selok _as part of the science team. I'll also be serving as a liaison between the alien crew and Starfleet."

Tucker smiled just a little. T'Pol knew he had told his sister about the crew of _The Selok_, and that she'd be foolish not to make use of their talents now that the Vulcans were going to be full members of the Empire. As fearful as their situation was, some good had come from it.

"It seems like this might take quite awhile. No use going back to _The Defiant_ tonight," said Tucker, "Think the Admiral will let you stay over with me?"

T'Pol raised her eyebrow.

"I'm not going to give him a choice. Besides, it will give him a chance to march up and down the halls of _The Defiant_ with his dog. I just hope none of the crew shoots him in the back out of sheer annoyance," she replied.

* * *

_Ten months later_

Tucker was blindfolded and being led outdoors. He felt a breeze and smelled salt air. He gripped his wife's warm hand, and she squeezed it in reassurance.

"Lizzie," he said, "Where are we?"

His sister laughed. "You can take the blindfold off now."

Tucker pushed the silk off his eyes and squinted in the bright sun. He was in Florida, and he was standing on the beach near his parents's house. The one he used to sneak into as a boy.

Lizzie was standing there in one of her black dresses, with her little son in a sling at her chest. T'Pol was standing next to him, no longer wearing her Starfleet uniform but Vulcan robes that were more appropriate given that her pregnancy had just started to show.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" said Lizzie.

"You, too," replied Tucker.

Lizzie looked at T'Pol and grinned. "He doesn't get it."

"Lizzie, is giving you this beach. . .and the adjacent compound, as a gift," said T'Pol.

"It's not like the Senate ever made good use of it," said Lizzie, "So I appropriated it. The renovations are still underway, and they'll obviously consult you and T'Pol on the decor. But I thought it would be nice if you two had a home that wasn't the palace - a place for the new kid to play far away from curious eyes."

Tucker tried to form a few words of thanks, but he found himself speechless.

"You're welcome," laughed Lizzie, "and furthermore, I've had our Thanksgiving dinner moved here. T'Les, Albert, Jon, Mom and Dad are all waiting for us at the house."

Tucker managed a smile. "Are you sure it was such a good idea to revive this holiday. . .I mean. . .it's gonna be a strange dinner."

Lizzie nodded. "It's important. The war is coming and we all know it. We won't win unless all the people think this place is worth fighting for. . .and the holiday is a start. Besides, I think we should all spend some time together before Albert leaves for Andoria."

T'Pol turned to Lizzie. "I have not had a chance to tell you how inspiring your speech was two nights ago."

Tucker sighed. With the impending war, Lizzie had given a speech to the peoples of Earth, Vulcan, Andoria and Tellar. She had spoken of putting the past behind them and banding together to fight the coming evil. She had promised to make the Romulans quake with fear and curse themselves as fools for daring to think the Empire was weak enough to conquer. It had sent a chill down Tucker's spine.

Over the past few months, Lizzie had proved stronger and tougher than he could have imagined. The MACOs had been dissolved, and most of them were dead or in prison. Colonel Hayes had finally given up information about Reed's plans, and for his trouble he had been granted a swift execution and a promise that his children would not forfeit his estate or be enslaved. Lizzie had kept all those promises.

Now, she was rallying the Empire against Reed and the Romulans at his back. She had spared no effort in painting Reed as a narcissistic sociopath and a puppet of the Romulans, and one by one the many confused factions of the Empire had lined up to support her.

"I owe it to my son to leave him a strong Empire to rule," Lizzie had said.

Lizzie suddenly stared up at the house with a sour look on her face. He turned to see his parents, Charlie and Elaine, all dressed up and standing at the top of the wooden stairs that led to the house.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "They've been so nice lately. It kinda makes me wanna vomit. I feel better when they're mean because I know they're being honest."

"Bert once told me they weren't always like that," said Tucker, "He says that when he was little. . .they were different."

Lizzie sighed. "I wish I could remember."

T'Pol took his arm and began walking with him to the house.

"Family ties are important," she said, "To humans and to Vulcans."

"Well," said Lizzie, "If you can put up with a dinner with our family and not jump on the next transport to Vulcan - I'll be certain that you love my brother."

T'Pol stopped for a moment and locked eyes with her husband. "There's no need for such a test, of that you can be sure," she replied as they all headed into the house.

**Fin**.


End file.
